A Heavy Burden
by confused-ish
Summary: Sachiko has announced that she is getting married and Yumi has secretly been hiding an illness- a terminal one. When the truth comes out it will test the bonds of the yamayurikai to the extreme. Major angst. Do not read if you hate sad/depressing things.
1. Chapter 1

Hello. I'm Confused-ish, your friendly neighborhood fan fiction…er. It's a pleasure to meet you.

I know it's probably mind-numbingly obvious, but I don't own Maria sama ga miteru or any of the characters. I am, as are all the writers on this site (I would imagine) simply borrowing them, and wielding my own creation from the original author's foundation.

This is a rather short first chapter- more of a prologue, really -but I hope you end up liking what you see and stick around for more. If not, don't feel compelled to hang around- I'm sure there is something out there that is to your liking. The fan fiction world is a big place.

Reviews/comments are always appreciated.

Chapter 1: Resolve

* * *

_"I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what."_

-Harper Lee, _To Kill a Mockingbird_

* * *

There is something about loving with your whole heart that is particularly romantic and endearing, probably because in reality it is a hard, hard thing to do. To love someone, to love them truly and fully, is to risk everything. It is to hold your heart out in your hands, cupping it carefully but holding it out nonetheless, where it may be cradled tenderly by another or, heaven forbid, cruelly stomped upon.

Because of a great fear of the latter true love can be hard to come by. It is, in its purity, an all too easy thing to shatter (even by accident) especially when it is out in the open and vulnerable.

Which is why confessing to such a love is really quite difficult to do.

On that morning, Yumi stood in front of her bathroom mirror, thinking about Sachiko and love. The two were so intertwined that to think of one was to think of the other; an instantaneous, purely reflexive train of thought that Yumi could not help but fall prey to. It was like looking at the grass and thinking green- a helpless reaction that the young girl, despite whatever protest she might have had, could not dissuade herself from. It might as well have been written in stone for all of its permanence.

So, it was in this manner that she stared at her reflection, thought of Sachiko and love, and tried to gather her courage.

_Today,_ she inwardly steeled herself, peering at the solemn pigtailed girl across from her_. Today, I will tell onee sama how I feel._

This was how her mornings always began; with that empty promise that she wanted to fulfill so much but couldn't. Because no matter how brave she was in the morning- with just her reflection and good intentions -her courage would vanish at the sight of her beautiful onee sama. She would look upon that long black hair, those clear, all-seeing sapphire eyes, and the uncertain waif from her first year would rear up inside her and say in its small, ugly voice, _"You aren't good enough. She doesn't- can't –love you like that. You should be thankful for what you have."_

And Yumi, indeed grateful for what she had, content enough just to be by her onee sama's side, would let the confession die from her lips as if it had never been there in the first place. She would smile instead, happy, at least, to hold her onee sama's hand, and silently say to herself, _next time. Next time, I will tell her_.

But today it wasn't like that. Today, when Yumi looked in the mirror, it was not with the zeal and confidence-- the hope --of her usually energetic self. It was with the desperation of someone who is backed into a corner, who had a weight on their chest that they greatly needed to be rid of. Her eyes were not the lively things they normally were, her characteristic smile seemed to have been misplaced. In its stead was a tentative expression of doubt, or a resolve that was marked by heavy burden.

Still, she repeated what she said to herself everyday, this time out loud.

"Today, I will tell Onee-sama how I feel. I will."

That is, if she could gather the heart to do so, for it seemed that her heart was a hollow, aching thing, and confessions of another sort occupied her troubled mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey again. Confused-ish. Hope all is well.

Thank you for the reviews/ comments- they are uplifting and inspire me to continue. Here is the next chapter, edited and actually a bit elongated. Hope you like.

Chapter 2: Sachiko's Unpleasant Surprise

* * *

_"The greatest griefs are those we cause ourselves."_

-Sophocles

* * *

They knew that something was wrong with Yumi from practically the moment she walked in, her pace slow and methodical. They were not the yamayurikai for nothing, they were not her friends for nothing, and Yumi was Yumi. Her face betrayed all her emotions. Even the youngest of them- Touko and Noriko –could sense that something was wrong, and it troubled them more than they cared to admit.

Touko, already seated at the table, hesitated, inwardly debating whether to go to her onee sama, but in her moment of indecision someone else beat her to the punch.

"Yu-mi-chan!" Sei crowed, throwing herself upon the pigtailed girl and wrapping her in a great bear hug. She grinned down at her playfully. "Did you miss me?"

Sei was forever throwing herself upon Yumi. It was how their relationship worked, a bold dance that involved both a chase and retreat- Sei in pursuit, Yumi fervently scouting out the nearest exit. It was what they did.

Yumi, who had been looking at nothing in particular as she opened the door, whose mind had been preoccupied with troublesome thoughts she strove not to let become too depressing, jerked up in surprise. That much, at least, was to be expected.

But her reply, her tired smile and the weight in her gaze, was not.

Those that were looking at the pair were quick to notice it. Everyone, after all, was concerned for Yumi. For the past several days she hadn't been acting like her usual hyper, enthused self. She'd been contained and more than a bit distant, something completely out of character for the girl whose face was so amusingly expressive. She was drawing in on herself, quietly tucking in her emotions so that they gradually became less vibrant and more…

Dull.

It was a most unwelcome change.

So the yamayurikai watched her entrance with varying degrees of concern and mild discontent, hoping that maybe today she would snap out of it. That the energy would return to her eyes and she would smile, fully and honestly.

In short, they were hoping for a miracle.

Only Sachiko did not look up. On the far side of the room, standing quietly by herself, her arms crossed and her figure almost unnaturally still, she seemed to be making an art of not looking. Her eyes were trained on the window and her expression was distant, wallowing in some unnamed torment that was obviously of great importance, even if her profile was calm and her posture straight.

This too, had not gone unnoticed. Even as Sei greeted Yumi in her robust way and Touko gazed at her onee sama with a worried frown, Rei stared at her friend, feeling irritated with the atmosphere the morning seemed to have brought with it. She could only hope that it would, in due time, resolve itself.

The sooner the better.

"Rosa Gigantea. Its good to see you. I hope you are doing well?"

Where was that squeal of surprise? Why didn't she struggle against Sei's arms instead of leaning into them slightly, as if she were very much in need of their support? Sei did not mind- she always did love to hug Yumi, who was quite huggable –but the reaction was unexpected.

The former Rosa Gigantea prided herself on being intelligent. She prided herself on being able to read people, and she prided herself on being able to read her cute little Yumi chan. But right now she was baffled, thrown a bit off kilter, and she didn't like it. She didn't like this subdued Yumi, and she wanted to know the cause behind it. She was aware, however, of the eyes upon them, and recognized that here was neither the time nor place for a heart to heart. So she did what she did best-- she simply pretended that nothing was wrong.

"I am very well Yumi chan, thank you. It's kind of you to ask. And now that I have seen your lovely face, my heart is at ease." She winked, masking her lie in a way Yumi would never be capable of, and stepped back, giving the younger girl her space.

Yumi did not tell Sei to stop being such a flirt. She did not reprimand the older girl nor did she give her a disproving look that was tinged with amusement. She smiled tiredly once more and took her place at the yamayurikai table.

There were imperceptible glances around the room. Shimako met her onee sama's dark gaze with a worried look before glancing at the still form that was Sachiko. The look silently communicated, _Yumi is not the only one hiding something_. _There is something wrong with that girl too_. Sei flicked her eyebrows up in acknowledgement.

Yes, something wrong indeed.

Yoshino similarly stared at Rei from across the table, her expression begging the question, _what the hell is going on with them?_

Her cousin, eyebrows furrowed with concern, could only give a small shake of her head. She did not know either, though she did not like it. Not at all.

The younger girl let out a sigh to express her frustration, though it was restrained so as not to garner the attention of their new arrival. Not that Yumi would have noticed in her current state. She was obviously preoccupied, and it showed.

Across from them at the table Noriko immediately turned to look at Touko, intent on gauging her reaction to the situation. Her friend's face was a mixture of confusion, worry, and something like anger. But that was to be expected. Touko was a complicated girl- incapable of simply feeling one emotion at once. And her face was, bit by bit, becoming more expressive- just like Yumi's.

It was clear, however, that she too was discontent.

They all were.

Only Sachiko continued to look out the window; oblivious, it would appear, to the events that had transpired. Sei, noticing this, frowned (a most unusual expression for the flippant jokester) but before she could speak Sachiko did, startling them all. She turned from the window, slowly, as though she were reluctant to do so. She turned, hesitantly, and all of them noticed. Gazes that had already been flickering between her and Yumi shifted to her, though Touko herself kept her attention on her onee sama, that same complicated expression on her face.

Sachiko, realizing she had their attention (though she secretly did not want it- did not want to have to say what she knew she needed to say) addressed the room at large, her voice soft but firm.

"I have an announcement."

There was something ominous about the way she said it- _"I have an announcement." _-something dark and vaguely foreboding. Everyone felt it, that sense of doom that was slowly creeping upon them- a combination of the way she said it and her behavior that morning -though no one spoke. They were waiting for her to complete the thought, hoping that they were simply overreacting- that their concerns were unwarranted and that afterward they would have a good laugh at their foolishness.

Unfortunately, they weren't.

Sachiko paused, briefly, as though steeling herself, and the tension in the room palpably thickened. Though aware of it, Sachiko remained outwardly unruffled, taking a quiet breath before she spoke the words that, in many ways, damned them all.

Or at least one.

"I'm getting married."

There was a stunned silence around the yamayurikai table. The greetings, the tentative, quiet striving for happiness in the face of misgivings and secret worries- they simply deflated, leaving behind something shocked and sudden and awkward. Really, it was not an unexpected thing, Sachiko's announcement. If one thought about it, it made perfect sense that with her graduation would also come her betrothal to Kashiwagi- she had as good as told them, in fact, that this was the case, when Yumi had met the man for the fist time.

But it stunned the other council members nonetheless.

In her seat Yumi jerked up at the announcement, staring at her onee sama in disbelief and what could only be described as plain shock. She was frozen, a statue. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. She could barely think; the very foundations of which she had been standing simply crumbled away beneath her without a sound. It couldn't be true. Not her onee sama.

"_I'm getting married."_

Sei, who was only there on a whim in the first place, who did not like delving into things that required serious attitude and thought (preferring the detachment that came with being a creature of fancy) let everyone soak in the information before speaking.

"To Kashiwagi then?"

The humor she usually wrapped herself up in was noticeably absent. Her voice remained even, but she couldn't help but glance at the pigtailed figure across from her. It was, perhaps, a pointed glance.

_Of course its Suguru. Who else could it possibly be? You're an idiot Sachiko- a damn fool._

"Yes, to Suguru. It will be announced formally next week; I wanted to tell all of you before then."

Sachiko did not follow Sei's gaze as it was directed to the girl in front of her on her immediate right. If she was privy to Sei's thoughts, as it would be impossible to not be in this situation (so direct was the former Rosa Gigantea) she didn't react to them. She was speaking to Sei and so she left her eyes there as she did, knowing that if she were to look at her petite seour her world would fall apart, simply break, and so she did not.

Yoshino had no such qualms. Disbelief colored her tone as she glanced from Sachiko to Yumi and back again, her eyes wide.

She moved as if to stand. "But how can you-?"

A quiet voice interrupted.

"Congratulations. I wish for your happiness."

"Shimako!" Yoshino's twin braids swung around as she turned to glare at her friend, her voice a not so gentle rebuke. "You agree with this?" She gestured to the room at large. "What about-?"

_What about Yumi?_

"Yoshino, that's quite enough."

There was a thread of steel in Rei's measured voice as she put a hand on her cousin's shoulder. "This is a happy event."

She too was outwardly calm though her eyes, as she said this, reflected something else. Something sad and, ultimately, something disappointed. It was not, as she proclaimed, good news. Not at all.

Sensing the atmosphere in the room, knowing that it wasn't her place to say such things (or perhaps at last reading the look in Rei's gaze) Yoshino slowly sunk into her chair and shut her mouth, though anyone could tell from her expression that she was clearly not pleased.

_What is wrong with Sachiko- with all of them?_ She fumed._ Can't they see how wrong this is? Don't they understand how Yumi must be feeling?_

_Yumi._

Yoshino's heart ached for her friend as she turned to her, but the girl was slumped in her chair, lifeless. It was as though she had been informed of the death of a relative, so shocked and betrayed was her expression, so morose. It was not a look that befit Yumi at all.

"Congratulations," Noriko said, echoing her onee sama, though her eyes, too, were pitying. She knew that it was only because of her onee sama, whose hand clasped hers beneath the table, fingers intertwined painfully tight, that she didn't voice her protests out loud the way Yoshino had. "I too wish for your happiness."

In her seat Touko was silent, surprisingly so. As one who was expected to, given her nature, have an outburst of sorts, an indignant cry or two at the very least, she was uncannily subdued. Instead she simply stared at her own onee sama, her expression torn- the anger more prominent, but with it, the sorrow.

Sachiko inclined her head respectfully, somehow managing to avoid looking at any of them. "Thank you."

It was all she could bring herself to say. Never before had she realized just how exhausting her pretenses could be. And though she would not look at her, she was afraid of her silent petite souer. Of the things she didn't say.

There was a long, tense moment.

"So, when's the big day? I'll need to know if I am to buy a present."

Sei's voice was a hard, mocking thing. Humor had always been her best weapon and she wielded it now, thrusting it like a sword at Sachiko without remorse. _You coward, you fool, when are you going to learn? When is enough enough? Open your eyes, goddamn you. Fight!_

Rei didn't have it in her heart to throw Sei a reprimanding look, though it was obvious the older girl had crossed a line. Her loyalties were to Sachiko but it was hard to help someone who would not help themselves. And though she hurt for her foolish friend she would not add to her pain, just as she was unable to come to her rescue.

_Oh Sachiko, _she thought, her heart going out to the other girl._ You don't love him. You know that._

_Don't do this._

Sachiko, it would appear, didn't have the heart to reprimand Sei either. Her voice was one of indifference as she informed them of one of the biggest events of her life. "Two months from now. A month after Rei and I graduate. You are all invited, of course."

"_You are all invited_." Did that include Yumi?

The thought ran through the head of everyone present except for perhaps two- Sachiko, who didn't seem to be allowing herself to feel anything at the moment, and Yumi, who, in her current state, didn't seem capable of processing what had just been said. In reality, it played over and over in her head- the first little bit, anyway.

Two months. Such a short time, to say goodbye forever.

_Not forever_, she reminded herself, hands bone white as she clasped them in her lap. _Forever comes in two years, if those doctors are right_.

Without thinking she put a hand on her chest, gripping her rosary beneath her uniform, musing, perhaps, about how fragile her body had become. How little time she had left.

_Perhaps this is for the best. Now, at least, I won't have to tell Onee sama. She'll be the one leaving- not me._

It was a painful thought, and inwardly Yumi cringed at her selfishness.

Sachiko could not stand it. Their congratulations and small talk, the desperate measures they took to hide the heaviness in the room; each made her want to fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness. _What can I do?_ She wanted to scream at them. _We have been engaged from birth! It is set in stone. You cannot hate me more than I already hate myself!_

This she didn't say out loud. It was against the way she had been taught, against the way she had been raised. The small part that was her weak self- her internal, well-bred lady self -had already admitted defeat. Instead, she did what she did best; she ran away.

"I have to go- there are many things that need to be done for the ceremony."

Not that she was not needed for them. Not that she had anything to do at all but stare at the ceiling in her bed room and curse her fate, her weak nature.

She plastered a smile on her face and hoped that it looked real. Over the years, she has gotten good at smiling in an appealing way. But now it felt as though she had forgotten how. Or maybe she no longer had facial muscles. It was difficult, in the chaos that was her aching mind, to tell.

"It was nice of you to stop by, Rosa Gigantea." She bowed her head slightly to Sei, still mindful, ever mindful, of her manners. She was a lady, if nothing else. _Wouldn't mother be so proud? "Goodbye."_

A few of the yamayurikai echoed her last statement, most in faint voices, as she moved to the door. It was a long walk and she could not help but rush herself; something she would not normally do. But she just wanted to be away, needed to be, and so when she reached the door it was a relief to open it, to disappear into the hall, the yamayurikai out of her sight and, hopefully, if she were to be so lucky, out of her mind; especially the cutest one of them.

_Don't think about her._

Oh God, if only it were that easy! If only she could. It would sure as hell make things a lot easier.

_God damn it all. God damn it to hell._

It was a sentiment many left behind in the room agreed with.


	3. Chapter 3

Surprise surprise, it is I, Confused-ish.

I won't say much because I know you are here for the story and not my introductory words (no matter how wise they may be).

Thank you for the reviews. It is good to know that people are reading and enjoying my work. It makes me enjoy it even more than I already do, so again, many thanks.

This chapter has been edited. Hopefully, as a consequence, it flows a bit more. It's on the short side, but not as bad as the first chapter.

Proceed.

Chapter 3: Overwhelmed

* * *

_"Sometimes the lies you tell are less frightening than the loneliness you might feel if you stopped telling them."_

-Brock Clarke

* * *

The silence of those left behind was a dark thing. It was broken, but not the mood of despair. It only grew worse.

"Damn that Sachiko." This from Sei.

"She has her own problems."

"You don't need to tell me that Rei!" The older girl snapped, getting to her feet and beginning to pace. She was restless, and it showed. "Damn!" She ran a hand through her short hair angrily, a dark scowl marring her pretty features. "Damn damn damn!"

"Yumi, are you okay?"

Yumi, having clawed her way (at least in part) from her stupor- it was hard, returning to a conscious world that her soul protested against so entirely -turned her tired eyes to Yoshino. Her friend was staring at her with an intense gaze, concern making her look both angry and incredibly sad.

It was, Yumi thought, a funny combination.

And still, Touko remained silent.

"Of course she isn't okay! That damn Sachiko! She doesn't know what she's doing! Stupid _ojou-sama_!"

"Sei, enough."

"I'm okay."

"Yumi-"

"Really Yoshino, I'm alright. Thank you."

She took a deep breath as she looked up at the others. It was hard, looking at all of them, having them feel sorry for her.

They didn't even know the full truth.

"All of you, its okay. You don't have to worry about me. It was just a shock, that's all. I'm fine."

She wasn't fine. She would probably never be fine again. But she couldn't tell them that. It was too sad.

Rei shook her head, letting her disproval show for the first time- though it wasn't directed at the younger girl. It was clear whom she was disappointed in, and for once she didn't bother to hide it.

"I'm sorry Yumi chan," she said gently, addressing her friend's souer with more care than usual, as though she felt, in part, responsible for the events that had taken place, though she truly wasn't. Her soft nature simply wouldn't allow for anything else. "You didn't deserve that. Sachiko… She shouldn't have sprung it upon you in that way."

_She shouldn't have sprung it on any of us, _the kendo girl acknowledged._ Sachiko, when are you going to learn that it's okay to be happy?_ _When are you going to stop running away?_

She sighed. "It wasn't fair to you. She just-" the older girl looked for an appropriate explanation, and, upon finding none (there was nothing save Sachiko's fear keeping her at bay, and that was not nearly good enough of an excuse, the yellow rose knew) shrugged helplessly. "She must have a lot on her mind."

Yumi, at Rei's kind words, shook her head as well, gently rebuffing the well-intentioned girl.

"No Rei sama, I overreacted," she admitted softly, not looking at her- or any of them, really. It hurt too much to. "It shouldn't have even been a surprise. Remember? Onee sama already told us she was getting married when I was a first year. I'd forgotten, that's all. She told us that day, but I'd forgotten. "

She forced herself to look up- _you cannot keep staring at the table Yumi, its rude_ -her gaze sad, sad, sad. Really, she just wasn't built to handle this kind of thing. "That was silly of me, wasn't it? To forget something like that."

She smiled her un-Yumi smile, the one twisted with an edge of something heavy, and laughed quietly. Was laughter supposed to sound so depressing? Somehow, she didn't think so.

_God Yumi, you need to pull yourself together, _she chided._ Stop acting like such a pathetic weakling! They'll see, they'll know, and then what will you do? Will you be able to say goodbye to them?_

_To Onee sama?_

Unable to bear it Yumi pushed the painful thought away, mentally shaking herself of the mental image of those pure blue eyes as she focused on the conversation at hand.

"I just want onee sama to be happy."

_I want to be happy with her. Even if she didn't choose me. But I still want her to be happy_. _Which is why I can't tell her the truth. But I want to because it hurts to hide it. _

She bit her lip, struggling with the turmoil of her emotions and the thoughts that hurled themselves at her weary mind, attempting to ground herself even when she felt as if she were drifting, oddly detached from the situation yet undeniably- painfully -connected to it.

_Why am I so confused? Why is it so hard to love onee sama? Why can't I be granted the simple wish of remaining by her side? Why?_

The rest of the yamayurikai looked at the small girl, equally serious and concerned, and Yumi, as she looked back at them, was not smiling either. She could not bring herself to. She was an honest person; too honest. And she already had been keeping one secret for longer than was making her comfortable. She needed to get it off her chest- even if it felt like it would kill her to do so.

Shimako interrupted her dark thoughts.

"You're so brave Yumi san. I really do admire you."

Her voice was filled with conviction, and beside her Noriko nodded, as though she too felt the same way. As if Yumi really was the strong person they were making her out to be and not the scared, helpless girl she knew she really was.

Immediately she began to tremble. It was a knee jerk reflex built from her sorrow and guilt. How small and tiny she felt right now! The deception was hurting her more than she had initially though it would. It had been hurting her, hurting her since she had first discovered the news, but with the added weight of her onee sama's declaration—"_I'm getting married"_ --it was suddenly too much.

She could not bare the sympathy in her eyes- not when she was the one really at fault.

"I'm not strong," she whispered as she looked away, ashamed. Of her deception, of the fact that they were making her out to be some hero when she was anything but, and she felt so incredibly _guilty _she could not stand it.

She swallowed. "You just think I am because you don't know."

She couldn't meet their eyes and so she looked down at the wooden surface of the table instead, her throat aching. _Now_, she thought, steeling herself. _Now, before it gets any harder. Before it's too late._

_You owe it to them to tell the truth._

"I've been running away for a long time. I have a secret too- just like onee sama." Well, somehow she had the feeling they would be less forgiving with her own. But that was okay. She deserved it.

Did it always hurt so much to tell the truth? Her chest felt incredibly tight and her head was pounding in a way that seemed terribly loud. She forced herself to look up, but the room was dim, the yamayurikai mere shadows in the sudden darkness. _Strange, _she thought. _I can't see them. _She took a deep, shuddering breath and felt her lungs twinge. _Was it always this hard to breathe?_

A dead hush fell upon the room at Yumi's admission. Again, Sei brought it upon herself to break it, though for the first time she is felt something akin to fear instead of anger. It made her tone harder-- rougher --than she had intended it to be.

"What are you getting at Yumi? Spit it out."

Yumi turned automatically at the sound of the other girl's voice, but for the life of her she could not see the former Rosa Gigantea. She knew that she was near the door because that was where she had been standing earlier, but her vision had acquired a sort of tunnel effect that made the older girl simply vanish in the sudden murkiness of the room.

_This isn't right, _she thought slowly, panic clawing at her chest along with the pain, even as she sunk into a state of lethargy that she couldn't seem to rip herself from. She was stuck, her eyelids growing heavy, each thump of her heart loud and hurting and almost unwelcome.

Which she knew wasn't good, but what could she do? She was helpless, lost in a slowly darkening world, unable even to speak.

_This shouldn't be happening, _she cried out silently._ Not now!_

_I have to tell them. I need to…_

It was her last thought before she blacked out, simply slumping sideways in her chair and then slipping from it as though she'd never been in it in the first place. Empty of it's occupant it clattered to the ground beside her as she fell, the sudden noise echoing loudly in the small room.

Touko was the first to call out to her, abruptly shaking off the silence she had worn like a shroud that morning. Her voice was full of panic as she knocked back her own chair and rushed to the fallen girl.

"Onee sama!"

Spread out on the floor Yumi was oblivious to her petite souer's frightened cries, or the others' that soon followed. She was oblivious to the concerns that usually plagued her, of her feelings of guilt and rejection, or even of the former Rosa Gigantea's arms as they gently lifted her off the ground, concern making them shake slightly. It was a kind of peace that, had she been awake, Yumi might have been able to appreciate. As it was she remained ignorant of the worries of those hovering over her, unable to enjoy the sudden calm of not having to think at all.

Still, even in the darkness of her dreams, Yumi thought of her onee-sama. Of that silky hair and those enchanting eyes. Which was why, even in her blissfully ignorant state, a lone tear trailed down the unconscious girl's cheek, containing in it the sadness of her small world as it slowly fell to pieces.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi. Confused-ish. Same old, same old.

*insert witty comment here*

Thank you reviewers. I'm glad you guys are still interested in this, and will hopefully continue to be as the story progresses. So far, we are good to go.

Chapter has been edited and I still don't own Maria sama ga miteru. Unfortunately.

Chapter 4: Revelations

* * *

_"Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."_

-_John 8: 32_

* * *

Yumi woke in a white room.

_Oh god, please, not the hospital, _was her immediate thought, panic making her clutch the thin sheets draped over her, hands white knuckled._ Please, anywhere but there._

Disoriented, she allowed her eyes to further open as she peered at her surroundings. She quickly discovered that no, it wasn't a hospital room-- _thank god_ --but instead the school infirmary.

Immediately she relaxed. She had always hated hospitals, even before she had gotten the- what had her mother taken to calling it? –unfortunate news.

As always, her lips quirked a bit into the ghost of a bitter smile, thinking of the understatement. _Unfortunate news indeed. _But yes, even before she had met with the doctors and learned of her less than happy fate, hospitals had frightened her. Infirmaries (at least, quiet one like St. Lillian's) were not nearly so hated. They didn't smell like rubbing alcohol and they certainly didn't tell you that you were going to die of-

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of her friend.

"Yumi!" cried Yoshino as she rushed through the door—Yumi unaware until this point that she had been pacing the corridor outside --her gaze full of relief at the sight of her friend conscious and alert. With a huge sigh she plopped herself down in the chair that someone had pulled up alongside the bed, leaning over to give Yumi a hug that contained a world of concern and support, which Yumi instinctively relaxed into. "Thank god you're okay!"

There was a twinge in the bed ridden girl's chest- and it wasn't of the physical. Guilt, for a moment, threatened to overwhelm her.

_If only you knew, _she thought sadly as Yoshino pulled away, oblivious to Yumi's internal torment. _Nothing is alright. _Still, she could not help but smile reassuringly at her friend, glad, if nothing else, for Yoshino's burst of energy. It was, as always, infectious.

"Yoshino chan," she teased with mock severity, furrowing her eyebrows sternly, "don't shout so loud- you're going to give me a headache."

Which, Yumi thought ironically, was the least of her worries, given her current state.

Realizing her turn of thought (a regression more than anything) she idly wondered if she was slowly turning into a bitter hag. She certainly hoped not, yet seemed helpless to stop her slips into darkness.

"Oops!" the other girl exclaimed, effectively cutting through Yumi's musings. She clapped a hand over her mouth. "My bad, my bad!"

Her rambunctiousness made Yumi's smile widen for an instant before it faded completely. Her depressing mood was quickly catching up with her as her mind drifted to previous events.

Though she was grateful for Yoshino's presence there were certain things Yumi needed to know, and though she was reluctant to disrupt the light atmosphere her friend had brought with her she knew it needed to be done.

"Yoshino, what happened?" She asked quietly, her hands, now in her lap, tightening into worried fists. She swallowed, throat almost painfully dry, before looking at the other girl. "Why am I in the infirmary?"

She could already guess as to the why (she was not a complete idiot) but it wasn't really what she was wondering.

_How much do you know? _She thought silently. _Does everyone already...?_

Dread gripped her at the very idea of it, making her queasy.

Yoshino, in response to her question, grew somber as well. Her grin slipped and then fell, her dark eyes becoming heavy and tense.

"You mean you don't remember passing out?" she asked solemnly, a thread of concern entering her voice for all it's steadiness. She peered worriedly at her friend, questioning her silently with her gaze.

Slowly, Yumi shook her head.

Yoshino, seeing it, immediately frowned.

_Crap. _

"What's the last thing you remember?" she said instead, her body tensing as she waited for the reply. There were some things she prayed she would not have to explain, things she didn't think she could say without loosing her cool. _Please, please don't make me tell her about Sachiko. _She could barely think about it without falling into a rage, it was so unfair.

She gritted her teeth but she didn't voice her angry thoughts out loud. She had Yumi's feelings to consider after all.

Unlike _some_ people, she actually care about them.

There was a brief silence as Yumi thought about it. It didn't take her long.

"I remember coming to the yamayurikai room. And Sei hugged me, I think, and onee-sama…"

Here was where she she stumbled, briefly, the recollection hitting her hard so that the words, when they came, were heavy and awkward on her tongue. Shaking her head as she studiously avoided Yoshino's sympathetic gaze, she forced herself to continue. "Onee-sama announced that she was getting married." She did her best to ignore the dart of pain that lanced through her chest, one that, again, had nothing to do with her physical condition.

Staring at her clenched hands, she forced them to loosen. "After that it gets hazy."

Yoshino almost sighed her relief. _Thank god. _

She was relieved, yet at the same time, she thought that perhaps it would have been better if Yumi hadn't remembered. It was, after all, a betrayal of sorts. Something no one wanted to think about, Yumi, she was sure, least of all.

Yoshino shifted in her chair, looking down at her friend.

"Well," she began cautiously, "after that, Sachiko left, saying she had to get ready for- " she caught herself, mentally cursing her clumsy tongue "-that she had things to do."

Seeing Yumi's puzzled look- _don't go there don't go there_ -she hurried on. "After that you said you had something to tell us, a secret or something, I don't know- but your face suddenly went white as a sheet and- bam! -you just keeled over!" She shook her head, frowning at the memory. "It scared the hell out of us Yumi, especially Touko chan." She stared at Yumi, her eyes serious in their concern. "She's really worried about you- we all are."

_Touko._

Yumi could remember, vaguely, her petite seour's face swimming in and out of focus above her as she slipped between the folds of darkness. Another pang resounded in her, somewhere deep and aching. _I am the worst onee-sama in history, _she thought._ How am I going to tell her?_

She bit her lip as Yoshino continued.

"While everyone else was panicking Sei carried you to the infirmary- we went with her of course -but the nurse told us that you needed some rest and she kicked us out. The others stuck around but eventually they all had things they needed to do and left. You've been here since morning."

Yumi looked at her then, brow creased in confusion. "What time is it now?"

Yoshino turned to check the clock that hung on the wall above the door. "Three. You slept for a while- I was getting worried so I came back to check on you." Her frowned deepened and she leaned toward her friend, voice anxious. "Yumi, what the hell is going on? Are you not eating properly or overworking yourself again?"

_Maybe,_ Yumi thought. She didn't feel to hungry these days. But that alone wasn't what had caused her to pass out.

She was silent for a moment then, not sure what to do. Maybe it was better it had turned out this way, she thought. She probably wouldn't have had the courage to face all of the yamayurikai- minus Sachiko –after she told them what was wrong anyway. But Yoshino had been sick before. Yoshino knew what it was like to be weak physically, to fight through the pain. Maybe she would react slightly better than the others if Yumi told her. And really, Yumi couldn't keep everyone in the dark much longer. Better to start out and see how Yoshino reacted. She could, at the very least, trust her friend to keep a secret, if she wanted it to remain one.

She looked up at the girl in question, the movement surprisingly difficult. Not because she was physically weak- though she was, her limbs heavier, muscles weaker –it was just that reluctance pulled on her, making it nearly impossible to meet the other girl's eyes. Through sheer will she did, silently amazed she had planned on telling the whole council in one go. She wondered where her bravery- or temporary madness –had come from.

Her gaze locked with Yoshino's, brown meeting brown, and Yumi, her body trembling in terror- she did not know, after all, how Yoshino would react, despite her confidence in the girl –slowly began to speak.

"Yoshino," she said, her voice whisper soft. She stopped, her throat closing in on her for a moment, and shook her head. She tried again. This time, she had more success. "Do you remember how I told you, before, that the doctors said I had an infection?"

It was the excuse she had given her when Yoshino had continued to press her, saying she knew something was wrong with her and that she couldn't hide it. She'd meant it to put the other girl off and it did, at least temporarily, but now everything was coming out in the open and the lie was no longer needed.

Slowly Yoshino nodded, feeling herself grow solemn when she saw how grave Yumi was, her pale face drawn and haunted. It was difficult for the braided girl to take in.

"Yes," she answered quietly, feeling something deep in the pit of her stomach- something ominous. "You said that it wasn't too serious but it would last for awhile." She sucked in a breath, a thought striking her. "It's worse than that, isn't it?" she accused, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Yumi, after a moment's hesitation, nodded.

Yes, it was worse.

_Goddamn it, _Yoshino thought, staring at the other girl. _Yumi would try to hide something like this. She would try to keep up us from worrying. _

_Idiot._

She took another deep breath and tried to force herself to calm down. "Yumi, how bad is it?" she said, her voice as gentle as she could make it. "You can trust me, you know that."

When the other girl remained silent she shook her head, frustrated. "Don't do this to yourself. Don't suffer alone." She took it as a good sign when Yumi looked up and met her gaze. She continued, pouring her feelings into her words, the strength of her emotions surprising even her. "Look, you were the one who helped me when I decided to have surgery, remember? You were the only one I could talk to when things were bad between me and Rei. You're my best friend Yumi; nothing can change that!" She softened her tone, clasping one of Yumi's hands in her own. Had it always been so small? She ignored the thought, pressing on. "Now it's my turn. Let me help you Yumi; talk to me. No matter what it is, we'll get through it. Okay?"

She smiled reassuringly, and to her surprise Yumi smiled back. It was not her full, one hundred watt energized Yumi grin, but it seemed genuine despite the tears in her eyes.

She wiped at them, her voice thick. "Thank you Yoshino chan," she choked, peering up at the other girl. "I…I'm glad that I have you for a friend." Sincerity rang in her words, if the tears were not already convincing enough.

Something warmed in Yoshino's chest; something bright and a bit humbled. For some reason she felt like crying too. "Idiot, it goes both ways." She griped Yumi's hand tighter. "Now, tell me what's bothering you."

Yumi, after a moment, nodded quietly. She was scared, terribly so (her body still shaking with it) but the warmth of Yoshino's feelings helped and she forced herself to get the words out before she could lose heart.

"It's not an infection Yoshino," she whispered. "It's my heart." She looked away, gathered her strength, and looked back, deciding to get it all of her chest in one fell swoop. "It's failing." She looked into Yoshino's shocked eyes. "I have, at most, two years to live."

Two years. Only two years. Such a short amount of time, really. An infinitesimal, tiny speck on a frame that should stretch out for decades. Yet she only had two years. Two small years.

_Two months, _her mind whispered. _You mean only two months._

She closed her eyes, feeling herself sink into despair as sapphire eyes flashed at her in the recesses of her mind; stubborn, beautiful... unreachable.

Really, sometimes fate is just too cruel.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello, Confused-ish again, this time with Chapter 5- it's a bit short, but its here.

First of all, thanks to all of you reviewers. I'm always glad to get feedback on my story, so thank you all for the comments. They are appreciated, and feed the little monster that is my ego.

But I digress.

Based on some comments, I just wanted to clarify that yes, at the end of chapter four Yumi is referring to the fact that in two months Sachiko will be married, _not_ that she will be dead then. Its the combination of Sachiko's marriage and the fact that the doctors say she won't live for more than two _years_ that is really depressing her, along with her guilt for all the lies, etc.

Anyway, I know it can be quite depressing, but I hope you continue to read my story (and enjoy doing so. If you don't, you shouldn't read it. Obviously).

Now, here it is, polished up and ready for reading. Have at it.

Chapter 5: Acceptance

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_"The shifts of Fortune test the reliability of friends."_

-Cicero

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A strangled sound made Yumi's eyes snap open as she searched the room for the source of the noise. When she discovered it her heart immediately sank.

Touko stood in the doorway of the infirmary, one hand clutching the frame as though seeking its support, her mouth a tiny 'oh' of shock. Her wide eyes were fastened on Yumi, full of disbelief and- the older girl noted with a wave of guilt –something like hurt.

_Horrible timing, really, _she could not help but think._ The worst._

Touko was, after all, one of the people she'd been looking forward to telling this particular bit of news to the least. There was another, more pressing figure who she was even more eager to shy away from- _blue eyes black hair slender hands elegant grace glorious laugh_ -but she could not allow herself to think of her now. It was Touko standing before her, Touko looking at her with those eyes that, in their incredulity, seemed to be accusing her.

Yumi certainly hadn't wanted it to be like this.

Guilt overriding her, she forced herself to meet the younger girl's gaze.

"Touko chan," she began, having no idea what to say. Her mind was blank, her brain a scrambled mess. Maybe there was something wrong with it too. Or maybe it was only natural, given the circumstances. Her voice, despite this, was pleading; for understanding, for the girl to wait, for the world to stop, just for a second, so she could at least have a chance to catch up with things that were way beyond her control. "I-"

"-Tell me it's not true," her petite souer interrupted, cutting Yumi off midsentence. Her normally strong voice had become faint, suddenly so childlike Yumi had to close her eyes against the pain that flashed through her- a piercing anguish as hot as any knife, very nearly slicing her in two. When she opened them again Touko was still staring at her, seemingly unable to tear her gaze from her onee sama, so tiny in the doorway it was unbearable to the older girl.

_And it's my fault. She's hurting because of me. _It repeated like a mantra in her mind. _My fault, my fault, my fault…_

"Tell me it's a lie."

Yumi wanted to. Never had she wanted anything more- so desperate was she for normalcy -for being able to say things with a smile and mean it, mean them, the words she spoke- to be honest and be happy in her honesty because all was well and she could, with confidence, convey this; that everything was okay. But she couldn't. As much as she wanted to say those things, as much as she longed to reassure the girl, her petite souer, to reassure them all, the yamayurikai, her—

_Blue eyes black hair elegant-_

-Friends, she couldn't. Because no matter how much she wished otherwise it was true. And it was killing her right now to have to tell her petite souer that.

Yoshino was still looking at Yumi, stunned, lips slightly agape. She'd been struck speechless, or so it would appear. Clearly this is not what she had been expecting either, despite her brave words. Clearly, she had been hoping, praying, for something else. Anything but this.

_And how could she have known? _Yumi thought, her guilt pulling on her, dragging her into a despair so heavy it was nearly impossible not to waffle in it. _No one would expect it. Even I still can't believe its happening._

She swallowed, trying to gather her courage, but it was so damn hard with two of the people she cared about most in the world looking at her the way Yoshino and Touko were looking at her; shocked, disbelieving, and, hardest of all, with the useless, before-dreams-are-crushed hope that it was a lie, a little joke, just one more gottcha. As if she were Satou Sei instead of Yumi, poor, dying little Yumi, slowly being crushed by her guilt, her onee sama's rejection, and the end of the road as it loomed before her, all too soon.

She could not voice these depressing notions out loud. She could not cue her friends in on how pathetic of a person she really was, how small and needy. She could not drown them in her hurt, just as she could not lie to them. She was Yumi after all, dying or not. Lies killed her much more than a failing heart ever could.

It was with this last thought that she took a steadying breath and looked at Touko, her petite souer, and spoke.

"It's true." The confession rang out into the all too still room, killing all other noise, the breath of it. The words no one wanted to hear.

"_It's true__."_

Yumi glanced over at Yoshino where she sat-- slumped unbelievingly in her chair, dazed –catching her brown, haunted gaze, knowing she owed her that much at least- to be able to look her in the eye, before she turned back to her petite souer.

"Touko chan, Yoshino, I'm sorry."

Funny, how she should have to apologize for something that she could not control, but it was true; she was sorry, unbelievably so. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for not telling you. But-" she swallowed, looked away remorse making her ache from the inside out "-it's true. I'm dying."

There was finality to saying it out loud. It was different, Yumi thought, then simply contemplating it on her own. To have it out in the open solidified it. And, surprisingly, it calmed her. Even as another moan slipped from Touko- heart wrenchingly sad -even as Yoshino began to shake her head- _no, it can't be true, not Yumi -_ Yumi felt a sort of peace drape over her. It was as though she could accept it now, in the face of her friends' obvious despair, and was thus able to act as the calm one. It was the lies, partially, that had pained her—keeping something so big a secret –but it was good, she thought, to finally confess. Somehow, it relieved her, if only slightly. She was able, at least, to look at them, knowing they were on level ground. Even if it were less desirable than anyone could have wished for.

Touko couldn't do it. Looking at her onee sama, her kind, brave-

_Dying_

-Onee sama, it was too much. That resolve in her expression, the quiet acceptance in her pale, usually cheerful face as she announced this- _abomination_ –it was simply too much.

How could anyone accept this? How could it be true?

_I won't, I can't… this isn't happening. Not to me._

_Not to onee sama._

She could not stay here. She could not look at the girl in the bed, that slip of a figure, without something inside her cracking, splintering, simply shattering all over the place, and so she left.

She turned and ran, without a word, without another sound. But she saw her onee sama's eyes as she fled, those calm, sad brown eyes, and something broke inside her. There was no sense of betrayal in them as Touko abandoned her to her emotions. There was simple understanding, a hint of it on those lips best suited for smiling, and it made her feel immeasurably worse. She knew that she should be angry at her onee sama for keeping such a secret. She knew if that secret were anything else she would be. But in that moment anger was the least of her emotions. In that moment, at least, she was plagued by other things, hounded by them despairingly, and so she could not stay.

In the room Yoshino saw Touko leave, simply turn and run out the door, and she called after her, half rising.

"Touko-!"

"Let her go." This from Yumi, who was staring out at the empty doorway, eyes weary but somehow tranquil too.

Yoshino turned to her, a million questions on her tongue, a million things to say, but she said none of them. Right now, she wanted to hear what Yumi had to say. She wanted many things, but at least this wish she might actually get.

The other girl felt her friend's gaze and glanced at her. "Touko chan needs time to sort out some things," she explained.

_Can I blame her?_

She smiled faintly. "Really, she is much more like onee sama than either of them realize."

Yoshino continued to stare at her friend and, quite suddenly, something inside her broke, just like Touko. Something that felt like it would never be fixed.

"Goddamn it Yumi," she whispered, exhausted by her emotions. She leaned forward in her chair, bowing over the other girl's hand, which she still clasped, though her hold was now one of desperation. It looked almost like she was praying but Yumi, who felt the cold tears slip quietly onto her skin, knew that wasn't the case. "Goddamn it."

Yumi was tired too, knowing that this was her fault. It was a difficult thing, sometimes, the truth.

"I'm sorry Yoshino chan," she said softly. "I'm sorry." _For everything. I'm so, so sorry._

"Damn it," was her friend's thin response. "It's not your fault Yumi but…" She shook her head, the gesture weak. "Goddamn it."

They sat in silence for a long while after that, neither saying a word. What more was there to say, really?

Hours passed but it might as well have been days. Neither would have known the difference. Time ceased to exist to them as they clung to each other, both weak, both strong, both heart broken. They took comfort in one another as comrades in arms did; stoically, barriers torn down, sitting with their raw feelings out in the open and a certain bond between them because of it. Things would never be the same again- of this they were both aware. But whatever came their way, whatever difficulties they faced, they were willing to do so together.

For as long as they could.


	6. Chapter 6

Confused-ish. Hey. Got the next chapter here for you, edited and everything.

Hope you like it.

Thank you all again for the comments. They are my life bread, so to speak. I admit, I'm a sucker for praise. It makes me blush.

Really though, they are nice.

As previously mentioned, I'm a rambler, but I will cut that short to give you the next chapter. Again, hope you enjoy.

Chapter 6: The Burden of an Ogasawara

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_"We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then, is not an act, but a habit."_

_-_Aristotle

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Ogasawara Sachiko stared off into the now darkening sky from behind the safety of her bedroom window, numb. It was a peculiar sensation- not so much the oddly physical sense of detachment she experienced from her limbs (as if they had somehow, inexplicably, ceased to exist) –but there was her emotional apathy to consider as well.

She'd read that it happened to war veterans sometimes; this sense of disconnect from their surroundings. When they attempted to return to their everyday lives, having experienced so many brutally horrid things, it left an indelible stain on their soul that many proved incapable of coping with. It was why their suicide rate was so high.

Sachiko knew her soul was stained. Knew it for a fact. But in her cold, clinically detached way, she couldn't bring herself to care. Not caring was much easier than having to deal with the remnants of a broken heart.

Abruptly she turned from the window, a chord striking somewhere deep inside her despite her attempt to push it away. To push everything away. It was painful, having to think- to feel, to be. Sometimes, she thought it would be easier to simply fall into a never-ending sleep- a coma, if you will. She was so tired; of this house, of her overbearing parents, the ambitious plans they had for her- of herself. She was even tired of school, which had always offered her a respite from the pressures of home, but now, with the yamayurikai—

_Yumi_

-haunting her, it was hard. Impossible, even.

She shook her head. Odd, how something that used to give her such comfort could strike such self-hatred in her now. How that face, that smiling, cheerful face, those soft, wide brown eyes-

"_Gokigenyou, onee-sama"_

-could weigh on her so heavily. Still, she ached for them.

She bit her lip, so hard it almost broke the skin. Almost, but not quite. She would not let her weakness show, if she could help it. She would bury it, somewhere deep, where she did not have to think about it.

In the same place she was attempting to bury her feelings for Yumi.

The ringing of the telephone shook her from her reverie. It straightened her spine, brought an expression of poise to her face that she did not feel. It was an expression that was supposed to befit the Ogasawaras, to match their regal name and standing, but that mask of repose did not reach Sachiko's eyes, even if she was, in every other aspect, the perfect lady. They were haunted, driven things, the sapphire not cold but lonely- desperately so -and even duty could not wipe them completely clean.

They were, like her soul, very much stained, though perhaps in a different manner.

She strode across the room purposefully (everything she did was supposed to be done with purpose, grace, and general calm) and in the same manner she picked up the phone on her nightstand, bringing it up to her ear.

"Ogasawara residence," she began, vaguely detached as was befitting of her status. "May I ask-?"

She was interrupted by a familiar voice. One that held, among other things, a sense of reproach.

"Sachiko."

At the sound of her name the girl closed her eyes, suddenly world weary. It was a voice she had been hoping, along with the person it was attached to, to avoid. Because it was easier.

Because she was ashamed.

Slowly, giving herself time (but only a carefully measured amount of it) to collect her scrambling feelings, she opened them again. Just as carefully, she answered.

"Good day, onee sama."

Youko's voice, when she responded, was not quite as measured as her petite souer's. In fact, there was an edge to it, something a bit curt, that suggested she was, perhaps, miffed with her petite souer. Or maybe she was simply discontent in general.

Somehow, Sachiko didn't think so.

"I didn't call to exchange pleasantries Sachiko," the other girl said flatly, her clipped tone dispelling the notion (if it had ever been there in the first place). "I'm calling because of Yumi."

The name hung between them, vibrating in the very air around Sachiko, distorting it. Distorting her.

Sachiko was, quite frankly, surprised. At the mention of her petite souer's name something in her, something aching and previously believed to be hollow, gave a faint twist.

_Yumi._

There was a quiet, strained moment. In it were a thousand words that would never be spoken, a thousand intertwined, confusing feelings that would never be worded. Instead, Sachiko took a deep breath, forcing her emotions down, away, somewhere else, so that when she answered it was coolly, a wind with a bit of bite to it.

"What about Yumi?"

It was dismissive, the way she said it; as if she found the topic at hand to be beneath her attention. It of course wasn't, but she certainly wished it was, and wanted her onee-sama to believe she felt it to be so. God, how she wished she could forget about that girl, her infuriating feelings for her!

God, however, was not so kind.

On the other end of the line Youko did not miss the cold tone. Hearing it, she accurately recognized Sachiko withdrawing and pursued her lips. It was not unexpected. Sachiko, if anything, was a creature of habit. In moments of confrontation (internal confrontation where duty battled emotion) she fled, if not physically then at least emotionally, curling herself up into a figurative ball and hiding behind a painfully obvious fabrication of aloofness. Aat least, it was obvious to Youko, who knew her souer perhaps even better than she knew herself, and it made her so frustrated she could barely stand it.

Youko, though pained by the turmoil her petite souer had to be going through, genuinely concerned for her and her situation, was not in the mood to coddle the girl. For another part of her was angry with her lack of spirit, the fighting, defiant self she knew was hidden in there, and it was the angry part of Yokou that talked with her younger sister now, banishing all hope of small talk with two words;

"She fainted."

If these words were meant to shock then they were quite effective. In that moment whatever walls Sachiko had built vanished instantly, gone without trace, as worry and concern- these deeper, overwhelming emotions –swamped over her. Unconsciously she griped the phone in her hand as though she meant to choke it, fingers, despite their forcefulness, trembling.

"Is she alright?" she demanded, earlier detachment all but forgotten as her voice rose in its worry. "Is Yumi okay?"

She had to be. This was Yumi they were talking about. Gentle, hard working Yumi. She could bounce back from anything.

_Oh god Yumi, please be okay._

When Youko did not immediately respond something like dread gripped Sachiko. "Onee sama!" she practically yelled, her thin layer of tranquility having flown out the window, leaving her naked and bare. Vulnerable. "Is she alright?"

She couldn't stand not knowing. It was a torment all on its own. Youko, realizing this, not able to hold out any longer- she was not a torturer, for god's sake -grudgingly answered.

"She's conscious. Has been for a few hours."

Her petite souer's sigh of relief was heard clearly over the line, and for a moment Yokou's heart softened. Then, she steeled herself.

"Sachiko," she said quietly, "you told them, didn't you?"

Youko had already heard from Sei, but she wanted her petite souer to confirm it. Wanted to hear it from the girl's own lips.

For a moment Sachiko was so caught up in her relief that she did not know what her onee-sama was asking. _Yumi's okay, she's okay, _she thought, feeling lighter than she had in days. _Thank god. Yumi's okay. _Warmth blossomed in her chest, unbidden, summoned without thought, but there nonetheless. It was a nice feeling, for a change.

Youko's next words cut through her temporary contentment.

"About your and Suguru's wedding."

The faint trace of a smile that had begun to spread unconsciously over Sachiko's lips tripped and fell flat.

_Oh. That._

And, like always, there it was- reality slapping her coldly across the face.

She slowly withdrew inward, as was custom of her. The cold settled over her belly once more, spreading across her unfeeling skin. Ice princess Sachiko. Uncaring Sachiko. Chilly as the depths of the ocean, hard as stone. Lady Sachiko.

"I informed the yamayurikai, yes."

She could speak in clipped tones too. She, like Youko, knew how to play this game; the silent poker, bets placed and stacked, bluffs wielded in hand, masks ready.

It was, all in all, a sad attempt to defend actions that she really couldn't defend. Not when her onee sama, her friends, knew her heart so well. And the girl who occupied it.

Youko, at this defiant admission, suddenly felt weary. Drained. It seemed an especially common emotion these days, all too familiar.

Too sad.

"Sachiko," she said quietly, confidentially, lovingly even, one sister to another, placing her anger aside in favor of her earnest concern. She too griped her phone tightly in her hand, as though to communicate her emotions through the contact; her desire to help the younger girl. "Don't be a fool."

Sachiko, stubbornness fighting with her heart, fear battling her passion, began to protest. "I-"

"-Don't," her onee sama repeated, "be a fool." She took a deep breath, and said, quite calmly; "Sachiko, you know how you feel about her. "

There was no question as to who the 'her' was. There was no need for either of them to feign being clueless, not when the name was so obvious, perched ready on both of their lips if needed, and Sachiko felt something in her chest hitch as Youko pressed on. "You know what's right. Don't make a mistake that will hurt you both. Don't," she added softly, "give her up without a fight."

And then, before her petite souer could argue, before she could voice thoughts of any sort out loud, Youko hung up, disappointed and with a heavy heart, leaving the other girl with her solemn words, good intentions, and, ultimately, a mess of emotions.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Sachiko placed her own phone back in the cradle, the movement unusually subdued. She stood for a moment, silent, battling the conflicting feelings inside her, not sure which she wanted to win. Not sure there was a winner at all.

Her uncertainty was what weighed on her, caused her to blink, several times, against a stinging in her eyes. That wasn't true. She knew what she wanted, but she didn't know how to get it. Didn't know if she could. So she pushed it away, far and fast, even though it hurt her to do it.

So damn much she thought it would kill her.

No one ever said life was easy. Certainly not the lives of the yamayurikai; prominently sorrowful among these that of a blue eyed girl and her softhearted companion.

Sometimes, it felt like living was more trouble than it was worth.


	7. Chapter 7

Hello all. Confused-ish reporting for duty. I hope things are well with all of you. They aren't? Oh. Pity.

Rigghhhtt. Let's leave it at I'm mentally/physically exhausted and move along.

First of all, again, thank you commenters. Comments are nice. They are heart warming. They make me feel all warm and tingly inside (even the abusive ones)

*wink*

Chapter 7 is here. I apologize if people find it to be boring; not much (okay, nothing) happens by way of action, but its a platform I'm building on to create the atmosphere and...

Yeah, sorry if its boring.

Anyway, as mentioned, I'm tired. Here is Chapter 7. Hope you stick around for more. I'm here until I leave.

Gah, so tired...

* * *

The next day at school Yumi felt slightly better. Which could have been seen as odd, given she had brought her best friend to tears, hurt her petite souer in a way she had never, ever wanted to, and learned that the object of her heart's desire was getting married to someone that wasn't her. But Yumi was a positive person. It was a new day. She had someone on her side she could confide in. She had her parents' love and support, she had her brother's love and support, and now she had Yoshino's. She was going to try her best.

That didn't mean that she was back to being regular Yumi though. Far from it.

As she walked through the school gates you could see that (if you searched hard enough). Most were oblivious, but some of Yumi's more astute fans may have looked upon the girl, greeted her, and seen the extra second it took her to smile back at them. They may have noticed, upon further inspection, the bags under her eyes, her less energized pace, the worry in her weighted gaze.

Noriko certainly did, and she frowned at it. She'd been frowning in a similar fashion since yesterday and seemed helpless to stop. She was vaguely worried she'd have a lot of wrinkles when she got older, but really, that was the least of her problems. At the moment her thoughts were preoccupied with the red roses, the whole lot of them, and it was giving her a headache.

Tokou especially.

Noriko sighed. _Tokou_. She didn't know what to make of it. She'd known that her friend had been frantic when Yumi had passed out- they had all been, Noriko herself included –and she knew that Tokou's thoughts had been preoccupied with the older girl for some time before that, but something had happened yesterday to make it worse. Something after Yumi's episode.

And Noriko was worried because of it.

She had run into Tokou on her way to visit Yumi in the infirmary the previous afternoon and had been shocked to see tears streaming down her friend's face- a rare sight in itself but made much more disturbing because of the recent turn of events. Automatically she'd called out at the other girl to stop, to wait, but Tokou had blown right by her without a word, a look of utter anguish on her tear-slicked face.

Noriko, of course, had given chase- who wouldn't after that? -but when her friend didn't want to be found she usually wasn't and it was all for naught. Confused, emotions swirling inside her, Noriko had paid the girl she'd originally come to see a visit and learned nothing, too caught up in her thoughts to pry, and had left shortly afterward. She'd felt like an intruder anyways, stuck between two good friends as the awkward, less acquainted third wheel in what was an obviously emotional scene, and had managed to escape, if ignorant, heart still intact.

_Just what is going on?_ She thought pensively, returning to the present. From what she could gather Yumi had some dark secret that was obviously hurting her, Sachiko was making the biggest mistake of her whole dumb life (which was hurting them all, Yumi especially) and Tokou was quickly becoming collateral of her sempais' problems. It frustrated Noriko to no end.

Her thoughts and conflicting emotions left her in a contemplative state, which was why she didn't notice Yumi until the older girl was practically on top of her.

"Gokigenyou Noriko chan," she said quietly, smiling- if only just a bit.

Which was usually not the case. Usually when she smiled, it was a heart warming thing. Catching.

Not so much today.

Noriko practically jumped upon the girl's sudden arrival.

"Gokigenyou, Yumi-sama," she responded after a moment, hiding her surprise with a polite smile of her own (also lacking). "How are you feeling?"

It surprised her how quickly Yumi's cheer wavered, how obviously. Noriko was aware, quite suddenly, of how pale the older girl was. How utterly fragile she looked.

_Really Yumi-sama, you can't hide anything, can you? _she thought, concern going out to the older girl even if some of her frustration persisted. Because Yumi, she knew, had something to do with Tokou's tears, and she was worried about her friend as much as she was worried about the young woman in front of her.

Perhaps even more so.

"Better," Yumi said after a half beat that stretched on for just a tad too long- the answer vague enough not to reveal much of anything, the younger girl astutely noted. "Thank you for visiting me yesterday; it was kind of you." She bowed slightly, gratitude evident in the simple gesture.

Noriko, tired of this dance, of the reserved atmosphere dictated for polite greetings, responded as was expected of her before pressing the other girl, some of her impatience leaking through in her insistent demeanor.

"Yumi-sama," she began, tone serious and unyielding, "I need to discuss something important with you."

Her grip tightened on her school bag as she looked Yumi straight in the eye, all business. When her friend's wellbeing was at stake she didn't tip toe around the issue, even if there were other things- namely Sachiko's announcement and its effects on Yumi –to consider.

To her surprise Yumi smiled, though it was a quiet, weary smile. All-knowing yet all the more sorrowful because of it. "Ah," she said softly, her expression- those dark, dark eyes -incredibly gentle. "Would that something happen to be Tokou chan?"

Noriko, once again taken aback (perhaps by Yumi's calm, upfront manner) nonetheless persisted. "Yes," she admitted, recovering swiftly from her surprise. "Its about Tokou."

She looked at the other girl expectantly.

Yumi nodded, more to herself than Noriko, pained, or so it would appear.

"Yes," she murmured. "I suppose you would have noticed, wouldn't you Noriko chan? You're her best friend after all."

Yumi took a deep breath then, not waiting for a response. She was steeling herself, it seemed to Noriko, and indeed after she had straightened Yumi looked at her younger companion, really looked at her. There was something there, something imploring and deep, that made it so Noriko couldn't look away.

"Noriko chan," Yumi began, her voice, too, rather serious. "I know it might be a bit-" she searched for the right word "-_presumptuous _of me, but I need to ask something of you. Something important." When Noriko simply continued to gaze at her, not sure what to say- or, frankly, how to react -she went on, this time speaking earnestly. "Tokou chan… We both know that she likes to act strong. That her apparent… _independence_, is very important to her. She wants the world to think that she doesn't need anybody."

Yes, Noriko knew of this. She knew her friend acted tougher than she was, that she put on a haughty atmosphere of aloofness to give off the impression that she could do just about anything. She was just surprised to hear Yumi speak of it aloud, to speak of it now, and to speak of it so accurately. It made her really listen as the older girl continued, both solemn and a bit unnerved.

"But she needs people. She needs someone, something, to believe in. I-" again, she paused, this time as though to gather her strength. Visibly she swallowed, shook her head. "I wanted- still want -to be one of those people. I think it's important that she has them. Trust, being able to trust others, is important."

She bit her lip then, regret evident on her expressive face. A regret so large, so all encompassing, that Noriko hurt just looking at it. It was in her voice when she continued, weighing on it so that it was low and soft. Gravelly. "But I can't."

She didn't elaborate but again shook her head, impatient with herself yet looking so forlorn, so lost, that Noriko wanted to do something- put a hand on her shoulder, offer words, just do _anything _–but the other girl took another long, shuddering breath and pressed on, determined to get the words out. "And I know you would do it anyway, that you don't need me to tell you this, but please… Keep being her friend. Just… be there for her."

She smiled again, and Noriko thought she had never seen a smile so sad. So tired. "It's a selfish request, I know," she added, a bit ruefully- a bit more Yumi like "-but I ask this as her onee-sama." Then, quietly; "even if I don't have the right to be."

Noriko didn't know what to make of this display. Her head was, quite honestly, reeling. The events of the past day churned over and over again in her mind, mingled with Yumi's words. She understood what Yumi was saying. She could have simply stated "protect Tokou because for some reason I can't" and that would have been that. What bothered her was the why. Yumi's words, though well intentioned, though obviously having sprung forth from a large amount of thought and struggle, didn't explain the why. Why couldn't she be a person Tokou relied on? Why had that said girl been brought to tears? And why, for god's sake, did Yumi look so heart wrenchingly lonely?

These things Noriko didn't understand, and she knew right now, with classes about to begin, that there was no time for questions. Or, more specifically, no time for answers. And, looking into the older girl's eyes, she didn't know if, right then, she even had the heart to ask. The courage. Because whatever Yumi was hiding, whatever it was that caused her subdued demeanor, was bad news. Of that Noriko was sure.

And she would find out the why eventually; of this there was no doubt. Just not now. Not when the girl facing her had such a pleading look on her face.

"Of course," she said slowly, matching Yumi's seriousness with her own. "Tokou is my friend."

_I will look out for her Yumi sama. Even if you cannot._

It was these unsaid things that made Yumi sag with relief. It was what brought gratitude to her gaze, lightening it, as though a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Thank you Noriko chan," she whispered, smiling genuinely and thankfully. "Really, thank you."

They were heart felt words. Honest. So why did Noriko feel so torn watching the other girl walk away? Why did she feel that, despite the evident resolve in Yumi's eyes, everything was slowly going to hell, and that there was nothing she could do about it?


	8. Chapter 8

Hi. Guess who? If you said Confused-ish then yes, you were right. I take my metaphorical hat off to you.

Once again, thank you for your comments, generous things that they are.

They are, as always, loved.

I like to hear what people have to say, so say whatever you want; criticisms and the like are welcome too, though of course complements make me squee. But honesty is the best policy and all of that, so go with the flow, I suppose.

Which brings me to the next point; this is really a pretty short chapter, and its more just a kind of thought process by Yumi. There isn't really any dialogue, and it may be seen as pointless, but its what I've got and I hope some of you enjoy is at least. I know you all are eagerly awaiting the Yumi and Sachiko confrontation/meeting (whatever it will be) but some stuff has to happen before that and I hope it isn't seen as tiresome to you lot. I'm having fun writing it, at any rate.

Anyway, here is the short, short chapter 8. Hope some of you enjoy it, at least.

Commence with the reading!

* * *

The problem with dying, Yumi decided, was how it shortened everything. She no longer whimsically thought of what she would be doing ten years from now, but realized with regret that she didn't have ten more years. She had a deadline- an open ended plan that had abruptly been cut off with a scheduled conclusion -and it made her think about her life's happenings a bit differently.

Sitting in her classroom, the teacher describing something that she (quite frankly) wasn't paying attention to (given the other demanding thoughts that swarmed her aching brain) Yumi was suddenly and completely aware that her perspective had shifted. She knew it was in the time that she'd begun to think of as after that it had happened_- _the after being after she'd been told the 'unfortunate news' and the time before that thought of as, well, the before. But she didn't know when exactly her thought process had changed; just that it had.

For instance, Yumi had always been an optimist- and therefore naturally content with what she had -but there were certain things in her life, she realized now, that she had taken for granted. Things like Tsutako, her camera crazy friend, who had asked Yumi just this morning if everything was all right, concern softening the eyes behind those characteristic glasses.

Yumi saw, in that moment, saw how she had gotten complacent with Tsutako's presence. It was only now, with the knowledge of her failing body and the lack of time she had left, that she realized how truly blessed she was to have known- to know –the girl. To be friends with her. Even her fans- who could be demanding at times –and the people she knew by face and not name who passed her in the hall with calls of good morning- they had, out of habit, become like background noise for Yumi. She could appreciate them when she was face to face, saying good morning to them as well, but they were not the people that she was primarily concerned about, the ones that occupied her full attention.

Only now could Yumi see how important of a roll they played in her life, how every little thing- the statue of Maria sama, these classrooms she'd grown so used to, the gingko nuts Shimako so carefully avoided stepping on –shaped her life into what it was, right along with the big things too.

_Like Yuki. Like mom and dad. Like the yamayurikai. _

_Like onee-sama. _

She saw, with a sudden burst of insight, how everything worked together to make a whole, how her life wouldn't be what it was without these things- no matter how tiny or miniscule they sometimes appeared –and something large and warm rose up in her chest, making her throat ache and her heart throb.

For Yumi, realizing all of these things from her nondescript desk- in the middle of a lecture no less -was so utterly and truthfully grateful for them that she could not help the tears that had suddenly began to stream down her face. Joyful in nature, a bit saddened too, but really, all in all, they were modest, shed by a girl who had been humbled in realizing how small in this world she was- how blessed.

And so she cried, silently, unable to help it, just as she could not help the big smile that had stretched across her face. Genuine, heart-warming, the one hundred watt Yumi grin in its resurrection, accompanied by a new serenity in her eyes that, when the teacher happened to glance her way, was so startled by she paused and lost track of what she was saying. It prompted her to ask if she the younger girl needed to be excused.

"_Fukuzawa san, do you need some air?"_

Yumi, in response, continued to smile, glass-like tears falling as she did, even as her classmates turned to her, some confused, some alarmed, others thankful, at last, to see that grin that they had missed so much.

Yoshino, who knew everything now, who understood, on some level, the emotions that were running through her friend, stood and said that she would escort Yumi out. Her heart was somehow both lightened and crushed at the same time as she walked over to her friend, relieved to see- _finally _–something like happiness in Yumi's eyes, yet sorrowful as she was reminded once again of her unfair, ultimately cruel fate. Some part of her still rejected it, and probably always would till the end.

_I beat the odds Yumi; you can too. Don't give up!_

It surprised them- Yoshino, Yumi, the whole class -when Shimako rose too- calm, dignified Shimako, who was kind but did not like to draw attention to herself –and said, quietly, that she would like to accompany Yumi as well.

In that instant Yumi's love-filled heart, if possible, swelled even further. She was so lucky, she knew, and silently told herself this.

_I am lucky for what I have. For having met Yoshino and Shimako. For having experienced all of the wonderful things I have experienced. Thank you, Maria sama. Thank you for all of them._

Again, those sapphire eyes flashed in her mind, beautiful, clear- absolutely stunning -and in that moment Yumi was not overcome by what she could not have, but thankfulness. A love so deep it knew no bounds, so gentle it was all encompassing.

_Thank you for onee-sama._

And so when she, too, rose, she turned to her classmates, the peers she loved- each in her own unique way -the ones she sometimes took for granted, and she smiled at them all. In her eyes there was warmth, a softness that struck every girl present. No one, not a single person, was unaffected.

And then she left, quietly, Yoshino and Shimako flanking her, both automatically clasping her hands in their own, sending their mutual support through the gesture. She left, and some part of her took the class's heart with it- or at least, a piece of it. Because she was Yumi- kind, generous Yumi -and who, of all of them, wouldn't be willing to give a piece of themselves to her after she had given them so much?

No one. No one at all could deny that Fukuzawa Yumi, honest soul that she was, ordinary girl that she appeared to be, didn't stir something inside of them.

Which was why losing her was going to kill them.


	9. Chapter 9

Greetings. Confused-ish present.

After the short chapter that was chapter 8, I have brought you a speedy update of chapter 9.

Once again, I seem to find myself on a roll with producing these rapidly. Lets just hope that the quality doesn't drop, yes?

Commenters, once more, I thank you for your comments. They are my bread and butter, blood and vinegar, yadda yadda, but really, thanks. Its good to know people are reading this.

A point KoSSa brought up about Yumi's situation was actually already addressed in this chapter (lucky you- though its good to know I've got astute readers!) so if anyone had similar questions regarding Yumi and her health, read on. And don't feel free to ask me questions if your confused about something- I'll try to clear it up to the best of my ability!

Again, this is a dark story, so if you guys aren't built to handle depressing/heart wrenching things, I suggest you steer clear. Seriously. Sometimes, I can depress even myself.

Other wise, proceed!

Chapter 9, here for the reading:

* * *

Outside, on the stoop where Yumi had once taken to eating lunch with Shimako, Yumi broke the news to her friend. Shimako did not ask- she would have considered it rude to pry –but Yumi felt that she had the right to know.

She did so gently, Yoshino a silent, comforting presence by her side as she revealed her heart's weak state and the knowledge that she had- if she were lucky -two years to live. And when she had finished- it did not take her long to do so, as she was brief with her words -and Shimako had reacted with a quiet, sorrowful exclamation –"_oh Yumi…"_ -her beautiful, large eyes swimming with luminescent tears, all three hugged for a long moment.

There was, at that time, no need to speak, as they simply _were- _none of them compelled to do anything but be there with each other, basking in the mutual sorrow and warmth and presence that they shared.

At last they pulled away, Yoshino with an audible sniff- _God, who knew I was such a crybaby_? –Yumi with a small smile directed toward Shimako. It was meant to comfort, and ended up completely astounding the other girl, even in face of the tragedy that had just been revealed to her- maybe because of it.

_How can she smile like that? After what she just told me, how can she… still be cheerful?_

"It's as I said before," the white rose said softly when she had recovered, pretty eyes red but her cheeks, at least, dry. She had composure enough for that. "Yumi san, you are so brave! If I were in your place, I would not have half your courage."

Yumi, for a while, was silent, thinking. Lately, it seemed she had a lot to think about.

When she finally responded it was slowly, as if she were still sorting things out in her mind. "It's not… that I'm brave or anything, though I do feel, well, braver now. I'm just… confused?" She laughed, a quiet, self-depreciating sound. When it died away her expression grew a bit more solemn, as she told them, quite seriously; "I'm still scared you know. Of dying."

There was a visuble wince around the circle. _ Dying…_

Yoshino, in response, reached for Yumi's hand, griping it fiercely. It was a gesture that said without words, _I've got your back. _

Yumi smiled at her thankfully before continuing.

"But I'm glad too. Not because I want to die or anything-" it sill astounded her how calmly she could speak of it "-but because I think I can see, just a bit, the… importance, I guess, of the things that matter to me. How… lucky I am."

She lapsed into another silence, though she herself broke it after a few moments of contemplation, Shimako and Yoshino listening to her with rapt attention.

"You know, when my parents- and Yukki –found out about my heart –they were sad. I had never seen them so sad before."

Her eyes, again, revealed that sorrow- deep, aching thing that it was -one that urged her two companions to reach out to her- to help her in some way -but she continued, voice somehow steady. Anchored.

"Mom just fell apart, saying it couldn't be true, that the doctors had to be wrong, and dad… dad was trying to tell her that it would be okay, that it would work out somehow, but he was… he was crying, too."

She swallowed, remembering that day- how awful it had been -the pain now evident in her face, in that slightly bewildered expression.

Again, Shimako and Yoshino wanted to comfort her, but again, they were helpless to do anything but wait as Yumi continued.

"I- I had never seen him cry before. Yukki was like that too- we all were –just crying all over the place, so sad it was… hard to be there, with them. I just wanted to run away from it all."

She shook her head at the memory, dragging herself forcefully back to the present as she locked eyes with Yoshino and then Shimako, drawing strength from them- they who were silent but obviously concerned, they who loved her- and she took a deep breath.

"And it's just now that I've realized that for them to cry like that- for you all to feel that way- it means- shows -how much you care. Even when Tokou ran out of the room-" Yoshino scowled a bit at the memory- _she shouldn't have left you, Yumi_ -while Yumi smiled slightly, having recognized the younger girl's determination not to cry in front of others "-I could tell how much she cared for me. And though its hard- knowing how much this has hurt all of you –it makes me… _thankful_, to realize how much I am loved. That I am loved."

She looked at them, love in her eyes, a big, heart-warming smile on her lips, even as, once more, tears swam in front of her vision, obscuring it. "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

Both were touched by those words, incredibly so. Oh, how they swelled with a sense of humble appreciation, realizing how lucky they were to be loved by such an incredible, selfless girl! Yet Yoshino hated those words too, hated the last of them, how they sounded, all too much, like some final goodbye.

Shimako too sensed the finality in them, and her stubborn, albeit much more contained persona rose up in protest.

"What about a transplant?" The words were off her tongue before she hardly had time to process them. Yoshino and Yumi both turned to look at her, the former's eyes lightening up at the question. Lightening with something like hope. She too turned to Yumi.

Yes, why not?

The latter smiled a bit sadly at their eagerness and Shimako pressed on, using the logic she was born with to convey, in a sense, her desperation. Neither of them, Yoshino nor Shimako, were willing to accept what Yumi already appeared to have concluded; that her imminent death was unavoidable, and nothing could change that.

Then again, she had the advantage (if it could be called that) of actually feeling her body's weakness pressing in on her- they did not.

"Yumi..." Strange, to hear Shimako drop the prefix, the san she naturally wielded due to her polite, reserved sense of self- though perhaps it wasn't so strange, as they had, all three of them, bonded in this time of crisis. "The doctors said you have two years." Her voice was hopeful, excited even. "Surely that is enough time for a transplant-!"

Yet Yumi was already shaking her head.

Her gaze was a bit saddened- she hated to be the one to crush what little hope they had –though her calm remained. She seemed cloaked in it, and it gave her strength.

"I think you've misunderstood," she said softly- hating, hating having to tell them this. She looked for the right way to say that which was impossible to say. "I… it's not that I'm guaranteed two years at the end of which my heart will simply expire."

She smiled a bit at them, trying to soften the blow, but it was a smile they could not bring themselves to return. Not in the face of what Yumi was saying. Not when her eyes were looking at them like that- so apologetic they knew whatever came out of her mouth next would be something earth shattering.

"Its is possible," she explained slowly, "very likely, even… that I will die before then."

_I try to be optimistic, and I will do my best, but…_

Words continued to slip past her lips, into the shocked atmosphere, as her friends stared at her, suddenly breathless, unable to do anything else. Unable, even, to tear their eyes away.

"My heart… its in a fragile state. The blood it pumps… is weak."

She placed a hand against her chest, mimicking the gesture she had shown them yesterday. Was it really just a day ago? It seemed like forever.

"As a result, my body is weak. My immune system too." She tilted her head back slightly and looked up at the sky, still smiling faintly despite the guilt- the sadness –in her poor, unsteady heart.

"I'm lucky it is spring and the weather is good. All it could take is a cold to kill me." She added, softly; "With my body, like this… I could not handle a transplant."

She tore her eyes from the expanse of blue- _how familiar it appeared, like a certain someone's gaze_ –and forced herself to meet the stunned- absolutely horrified -expressions of her friends.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, a bit miserably perhaps, though she seemed to have shed all the tears she could shed at the moment. Her gaze was dry as she looked at them. "I… it's very hard, to tell people. I don't mean to make excuses but… I want to try to think positive, but I don't want to… deceive you. I…" she swallowed against the lump in her throat, her words, when she finished, as gentle as she could make them.

"The truth is, I could die at any moment."

And after that declaration... Well, there really wasn't much more to say.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she got to her feet, Yoshino and Shimako too stunned to do the same. They were frozen on the ground, twin statues of disbelief, though Yumi knew, before too long, the shock would wear off and sorrow would catch up to them. She recognized, then, that they would probably be better off without her there, cruelly, if unintentionally, reminding them of the blow she had just delivered.

And so she looked down at them, kindness in her eyes, empathy in her weighted, resolved expression, and said, quietly, "I'm sorry."

Then, she grabbed her school bag- fingers surprisingly steady as she did –and with a slight bow to the petrified forms on the steps, one that begged, among other things, a certain amount of forgiveness, she turned and silently walked away.

When a soft sob- Yoshino's -broke the quiet, it took all of her will power not to look back.


	10. Chapter 10

Well, it took a bit longer than usual- I caught a rather sudden and nasty cold, unfortunately (in summer no less!) -but here I am, the great (or not so great really) Confused-ish, with Chapter 10.

Commenters, as always, your comments are a pleasure. Thank you for the support- I will do my best to fulfill your wishes (keep going with the story, I mean).

I won't take up your time with idle chatter, save to point out that there is a bit of swearing in this, but not much, so hope you guys don't mind. I know most people probably don't, but for those of you who like your stuff 100% squeaky clean... my apologies.

Anyway, A Heavy Burden continues; and what a heavy burden it is.

Hope you enjoy, and here is chapter 10:

* * *

Ogasawara Sachiko was oblivious. Sitting in the yamayurikai room several days after Yumi had informed Shimako and Yoshino of her unfortunate news, she remained ignorant of the events that had transpired. She knew that something was off- the yamayurikai were subdued as a whole, some looking downright stricken –but she had her own despairing thoughts to entertain and somehow her concern for that thing she could not quite put her finger- that certain sense of wrongness -was ignored.

She did notice that Yumi- who she still had a hard time being around –did not seem as depressed as she had previously, and this confused her.

_Does she not care anymore? _She found herself thinking. _Does she not care that I'm marrying Suguru? _

The thought was surprisingly painful. No, she didn't want to hurt Yumi- loathed the very idea of it -but the thought that Yumi did not feel as strongly about her as she felt about her petite souer… it was heart wrenching. Sachiko could not bear to think of it and so she didn't, spending her time staring out the window of the yamayurikai room instead and sighing every now and again, the weariness she felt growing increasingly apparent. Graduation was fast approaching and with it her plans for that hated marriage. She didn't know how much more she could take before something inside her snapped.

Though Sachiko remained ignorant- and still miserable in her ignorance -the news spread quickly to some and slower to others, reaching all of the other yamayurikai in the end.

A dazed Touko didn't inform Noriko until a few nights after she had accidently heard those hated words pass her onee-sama's lips. She just showed up unannounced on her friend's doorstep one evening, clearly distraught and helplessly pleading for answers a suddenly reeling Noriko did not have.

Yoshino broke down in the deserted gym of all places, sobbing onto a bewildered Rei's chest- kendo uniform soaking up her stray tears -the very day she learned the full story. Heart broken, she asked her cousin how god could be so cruel.

Rei in response simply hugged her close, her painfully tight heart going out to Yumi and her still clueless onee-sama even as she made soothing noises to her own younger sister, telling her it was good to let out her tears as she wiped them lovingly off her cheeks.

Shimako too turned to her older sister immediately after the incident, though initially more composed than Yoshino when she informed her- face pale and grave –that she had something serious to tell her.

It was the last of these that took the news the hardest. Satou Sei, flippant jokester extraordinaire, bone fide lesbian that she was, the girl who was constantly glomping on her cute little Yumi chan; it was she whose color drained from her cheeks and whose mind simply blanked at the news- turned, in the blink of an eye, to mush -coherent thoughts escaping without effort.

_Not Yumi, not my Yumi chan. Oh God, anyone but Yumi…_

Immediately she accused Shimako of playing a prank on her- "_you're pulling my leg, aren't you?"_ -even going so far as to laugh in a short, humorless way. But her petite souer mutely shook her head, eyes weary and strained, not an ounce of amusement in them, and Sei knew that it what she said had to be true.

Despite this she continued on the offensive, going so far as to shout at her younger sister, saying "_that's not funny Shimako, that's not fucking funny!"_

When she prepared to yell some more- desperately looking to hold onto her anger so that she would not have to be faced with those harder, deeper things -her petite souer simply stepped forward and hugged her, leaning in close to whisper thinly into her ear, _"I'm sad too, onee-sama." _

Something, right then and there- inside Sei's aching, bruised chest -cracked, simply gave way, and she fell to her knees, Shimako dropping with her. The latter of the two buried her face in her stunned onee-sama's shoulder, composure forgotten as she sobbed for all that she was worth. Something like _I'm sorry _slipped out of her mouth, garbled though it was, and Sei, hearing it, shook her head.

It obviously wasn't her fault, the older girl though dazedly, it was God's, and she hated him right then with a vengeance she'd never before experienced, so passionately that it drove her to her feet after a few minutes of Shimako's tearful cries, carrying her to the door.

_Fuck you God, _she thought as she fumbled with her shoes, slipping them on with trembling fingers, lips pressed in a tight line to keep from shouting at the heavens. Her fury threatened to choke her, so strong it was, so complete.

And still, she pushed down the other emotions that haunted her, burying them deep.

_Fuck Maria-sama, fuck it all!_

Her anger- large as it was -made her cut off her petite souer's frightened call- "_where are you going?" _–with an abrupt- "_I'll be back"_ –voice cold and abysmally hard in her fury.

Oh how she welcomed it- the anger. It did not swallow her sorrow but she willed it to, cursing the powers that be as she ran down the street- one, two, several –running for a long time in the hopes that it would take her mind off other things. She ignored the odd looks she got- they did not matter –as she pushed herself forward, her destination firmly in mind so that she pursued it unwaveringly.

It took her awhile but eventually she reached that house- determination carrying her up the steps –somehow keeping her steady so that when Yukki came to the door- red eyed and tired, she did not completely fall apart.

"_Where is Yumi?" _she demanded, no room for refusal in her voice. "_I need to talk to her."_

Yukki, not even putting up a protest, had stood there for a moment, simply looking at her, his dark gaze- so much like his sister's –bone weary. Eventually he had answered, voice thin, _"in her room. Please, be kind to her." _

And so that was where Sei had gone, pushing rudely past the boy though he did not deserve such rudeness, though she knew he had to be as heart broken, if not more so, than the rest of them- yet in that moment she didn't care. She had to see her and wouldn't be stopped, couldn't be, and when she reached the door to the girl's bedroom she flung it open, startling Yumi with the loud noise.

Those brown eyes had looked up to see her standing there, face half hidden in the shadows of the door way but not that determined expression, and her obvious initial surprise had melted into a small, half smile, kind but not cheerful.

"_Ah," _she had murmured, voice quiet and subdued. A little exclamation of the sad variety, a knowing one. "_So you know too, Sei-sama?"_

And when Sei had not responded immediatly- had simply stood there, rooted to the spot –Yumi had been the one to move, slowly getting to her feet, setting down the pencil she had been using to do her homework- so normal it defied the bizarreness of the situation. She stood and looked at the older girl, waiting for the words she knew were to come- because Sei had not come here- out of breath as she was –to simply stare at her.

And Sei, true to Yumi's prediction, opened her mouth and finally spoke, struggling to get the words out past the aching in her throat.

"_Why didn't you tell me?" _Her voice, though she had meant it to be hard- where, for god's sake, had all of her anger gone_? –_was raw and painful. Small.

Yumi, at the sound of it, had smiled again- that same, crescent moon of a smile, a sad sliver of what was usually a full orb. A smile of understanding Sei feared she was beginning to loathe. Then, the younger girl had answered, quietly, voice barely above a whisper but even as she looked at her, right in the eye; "_because, Sei-sama, I couldn't bear to see you sad."_

That had been the last straw. Trust Yumi to be kind. Trust her to be honest, even when it was easier not to be. Trust her to find her courage when Sei suddenly lost all of hers.

For the second time that night Sei fell to her knees- her exhausted legs simply buckling beneath her –as tears finally broke past her wall. "_God Yumi," _she had sobbed, her face turning down to the carpet so that those clears droplets fell onto it. _"God."_

And Yumi, being of goodwill that she was, had quickly walked over to her, gently pressing the older girl's head against her stomach and stroking her soft hair, almost like a mother comforting her child.

"_Hush, Sei-sama," _she had whispered lovingly. _"Its okay, I've got you."_

And Sei, whose fluttering, wounded heart could only take so much, allowed herself to be comforted. She allowed herself to cry until she had no more tears to cry, allowed the role reversal to take place- Yumi taking care of her when it was usually the other way around.

And when she was done, when all the tears that were going to be shed had been shed, when she'd recovered all of the ground she was going to, at that moment, recover, she slowly got to her feet. She got to her feet and looked down at the younger girl- so easy to tease, so kind, so innocent –it hurt her to look at her. But she did it anyway, and said to her, quietly, still broken by the days events;

"_Yumi chan, I'm here for you. We all are; don't give up."_

And again, Yumi had smiled, thanking her. She'd informed Sei, in that moment, of a few other things- the fact that she'd already confessed to Youko, that Shimako and Yoshino, and Touko, and probably everyone else, knew by now, save for one –Sachiko.

"_Please, Sei-sama," _she'd said quietly to the other girl as she revealed this, the resolve in her eyes temporarily replaced by something profoundly sorrowful. _"Don't tell onee-sama about me. Please."_

Sei, of course, had demanded an explanation; _"you can't hide this from her forever, Yumi," _and, reluctantly, Yumi had given one.

"_After the marriage," _she had said quietly. "_I'll tell her after she is married." _

Her face had winced a bit as she said this; she could not help it- it was painful to think of -but she continued at the angry look in Sei's eyes. _"She deserves happiness, Sei sama," _she had pleaded quietly. "_She loved Suguru once- she told me that. If she can be happy with him, then that is better, I think. If I tell her now, it will make things… hard for her." _She'd smiled again, sadly. _"Onee-sama is graduating. She is getting married. She has her whole life ahead of her. I… I can only offer her so much. So little." _This time she could not stop, it seemed, the tears that entered her own eyes as she looked up at a shocked Sei imploringly. "_Please Sei-sama- for me? Youko-sama agreed already."_

And Sei, seeing that look in those brown eyes, the helplessness in them, had reluctantly agreed because she didn't see what else she could do. What any of them could do. She'd agreed to keep her lips sealed, and with one last hug from Yumi, she'd left, unable to stay. Unable to bear looking at the girl, her dying little Yumi chan, and so she'd left instead, breaking out tears she no longer thought she had as she walked down the street, so heavily weighed upon it felt as though she would collapse and never get back up.

Now, everyone knew. Even Eriko, having been informed by a tired, distressed Youko, knew of Yumi's condition. Sachiko was the only one in the dark.

There were three weeks until graduation. Six until the wedding.

The yamayurikai could only pray for a miracle- for those two, pitiful figures- and for themselves too.


	11. Chapter 11

Hey there all, Confused-ish is present.

Its warm in Idaho with a chance of thunderstorms, apparently. Totally irrelevant, but a fun little tid bit for you folks.

Thanks, again, for the comments- I'm glad a lot of you are keeping up with the story and are interested in it. I hope I can continue to entertain you. *bows humbly*

I could blather on some more (its physically possible) but surprisingly, I'm not really in the mood to do so. Maybe I've exhausted my ability to talk/type non stop.

Anyway, here is chapter 11, picking up where chapter 10 left off. Its a bit longer than previous ones, but I hope you guys like it anyway.

Chapter 11:

* * *

The atmosphere in the yamayurikai room was, predictably, changed. Of this there was no doubt. No one could enter that room, place of so many memories and happenings, and- upon seeing the down cast eyes of its council members -claim otherwise.

Yumi, though arguably simple in most avenues of her thinking, had not been so naïve as to think that it would be any different, which was one of the reasons why she had been so reluctant to inform them- the other members, her friends –of her body's condition. But what was done was done; there was no going back now.

However her confession, coupled with Sachiko's sudden announcement- not to mention the knowledge that graduation was right around the corner -was enough to lower even the most hardy of spirits. The meetings were thus predictably gloomy, despite Yumi's best efforts. It was as if the very life had been sucked out of the council, the energy of it. The fact that Touko had been noticeably absent for the past several days, that Sei's visits were few and far between, was proof of that, and with Sachiko growing more and more distant, Yumi wasn't sure what to do.

She hated feeling helpless.

"…And that concludes the matter of the flower arrangement club's request," Rei said, looking up from the stack of papers in front of her to glance around the room, her eyes settling on one figure in particular. "Sachiko, do you have anything to add?"

When the girl in question did not respond- even after a long pause on Rei's part -it was easy for the others to see that she was, once again, completely lost in her own world.

The kendo girl felt a flash of irritation that she, contrary to the norm, seemed unable to rid herself of.

"Sachiko!"

It came out sharp, like a whip being cracked, and several eyes widened in surprise. It was certainly not the way they were used to hearing Rei speak and Yoshino, seated across from her cousin, straightened. Rei mad at someone besides her?

A rare occurrence indeed.

The raven haired beauty, who had in fact been staring morosely out the window and not paying attention to the conversation at hand in the least, gave a startled little jerk and blinked. Noticing that all of the council was staring at her, she mentally shook herself- _God Sachiko, focus -_before turning to her friend.

"I'm sorry Rei," she said contritely, polite mask settling over her effortlessly- as things that are continuously practiced to the point of habit tend to, eventually, do. "Did you say something?"

Again, no one was quite expecting the harshness of Rei's reply. Harsh did not normally apply to the group's general voice of reason, and, when used so unexpectedly, only served to bewilder the other members.

"Sachiko, you've been spacing out for this entire week!" her friend snapped, visibly angered as she pointed- actually jabbed her index finger –in Sachiko's direction, the gesture almost hostile. "Are you even taking the duties of a Rose seriously?"

Her voice clearly suggested that she thought that this wasn't the case, the tone borderline disdainful.

The uncharacteristic bite to the normally calm girl's words further astounded the other council members, who looked on with varying feelings of discontent and edginess as they watched the scene unfold before them. Some felt like jumping in with charges of there own (Yoshino prominent among these) while others, like Shimako, felt something vaguely queasy shift in their stomachs. The gentle natured girl did not enjoy fighting, did not like what had become, in just a few short days, of the student council, and did not like the waves of hostility that emanated between the two older roses.

It was… wrong. Unsettling.

Yumi, looking on, had a similar feeling of distress, though hers was mingled with a hearty dose of guilt.

_I have to do something, _she thought desperately, knowing that this- the unhappiness that had been generated in the past few days -was her fault. _Now, before its too late._

Sachiko, not oblivious to Rei's anger but startled by it, frowned. "I always take my duties seriously Rei," she said, though to be honest she had bigger things on her mind now, and, given recent events, could not help but feel that the workings of the council were a bit… trivial.

At least they became so, when considering her future.

Her stomach gave a twist. Marrying Suguru… odd, how such a bizarre occurrence was to take place so soon.

How completely asinine.

"Oh really?" the yellow rose asked, making no effort to mask her skepticism. "Then what was today's meeting about Sachiko? Can you tell me that?"

She practically spat the question.

Now it was Sachiko's turn to feel a flash of irritation. Did Rei have to bring this up now? If she had some problem with her-, which it was clear she did –why did she seem intent on dredging it up in front of the entire council?

She narrowed her eyes, deciding to give tit for tat. "I haven't the faintest idea," she answered coolly, surveying her friend through eyes that had, for all intents and purposes, become as hard as ice. She feigned a casual shrug. "It didn't seem important."

She knew that it wasn't Rei she was really angry at. That, more than anything, it was herself that drove her into these depressing moods- her weak state -but that didn't matter. Rei was baiting her now, giving her an opening, and in some ways she welcomed it- glad, at least, for the distraction from her black thoughts-, which were all too many.

Rei paled at the insult but her retort was cut off by Yoshino, who stood and glared at Sachiko, a very present anger going so far as to actually make her shake. She faced the red rose, her gaze dark with it.

"Do you have any idea how selfish you're being Sachiko sama?" she demanded, her conflicting emotions at the situation driving her own rage as well so that she was practically shouting, disproval clear in her pretty face. She glared down at the older girl. "Do you?" she challenged.

Sachiko, unwilling to let that go, stood too, shoving her chair back in the process and surveying her accuser, fire in her sapphire eyes. "I beg your pardon?" she asked, words clipped- dangerously so. Her voice was akin to the sound of a snake preparing to strike- coiled and ready to lash out if provoked

And Yoshino, it appeared, had no qualms provoking the older girl.

"You're blind!" she cried out, slamming an open hand down onto the table- hard.

The suddenness of the noise- and its volume- made Shimako wince.

Noriko, seeing this, grabbed her onee sama's hand, the gesture meant to be reassuring, and Shimako, in reaction, flashed her a tiny, thankful smile (pained thought it was) before Yoshino continued her onslaught.

"You're so absorbed with the fact that you're marrying Kashiwagi-" was it possible for a name to sound so derisive, as if it deserved to be ground beneath the heel of a sturdy boot? "-acting like some poor, woe-is-me martyr when its your own damn fault, that you're blind to what's happening around you!" She shook her head, braids swinging with the jerky movement, and growled out; "It isn't all about you!"

Yoshino's words cut Sachiko- cut her somewhere deep –positively wracking against that sore, aching spot that was her heart.

Again, not something she could let slide.

"How dare you," she snarled, her lady-like composure, for once- in public no less -nowhere to be seen as she stared back at the other girl. "How _dare _you presume to know me! You know nothing!"

She laughed, as if at the absurdity of the notion, and the cold sound grated against the ears of those present, against one girl in particular, who felt the pain in that sound, hard as it was, and winced.

_No, no, no, not like this, _Yumi thought in anguish, looking up at her onee sama and friend as they sent each other death glares, neither backing down an inch. _It isn't supposed to be like this! Onee sama… she's supposed to be happy. Not… hurting._

For yes, it was suddenly clear to Yumi that Sachiko, was, in fact, in pain. The younger girl had been so absorbed with her own issues, plagued, earlier, with her guilt, that she'd completely failed to notice, but now it was as clear as day. Those sapphire eyes, behind that surface anger, were pained, wretched things- so much so that it hurt Yumi to look at them. Lost, child-like in their helplessness- pleading, Yumi realized, for rescue -and suddenly she understood that her plan was all for naught. Sachiko wouldn't, couldn't, love Suguru- not if the thought of being married to him made her look like that.

_You've been hurting, onee sama. That announcement… it hurt you just as much as it hurt me. _

She swallowed, realizing what a baka she'd been, a total, complete baka, and slowly, resolving herself, got to her feet too.

The movement went unnoticed by those glaring at each other but not by Rei, Shimako and Noriko, who all turned to look at her, their gazes vaguely pleading too. As if they believed she could somehow make things whole again, put together, once more, the picture that she'd unintentionally shattered.

Yumi didn't know- wasn't sure, really –if that was possible. There was no fixing, completely, that which had been broken. The words she wanted taken back could not be, and that was that. But she couldn't leave it like this either. She couldn't watch, silent, as Sachiko attached herself to a gloomy fate of unhappiness, tied an anchor around her foot and let it drown her in a stormy sea of her parents choosing.

So instead she attempted to do what she did, by nature, best- be the petite souer that was there for her onee sama.

And with this in her mind, with tears in her eyes- of happiness or sorrow she wasn't quite sure (perhaps a mixture) –she stepped toward her onee sama and slowly wrapped her in a hug.

This Sachiko did notice and she turned to her in response, anger, just like that, leaving her wide-eyed gaze as she looked down at the younger girl.

"Yumi…?"

"I'm sorry onee sama," her petite souer whispered, voice thick with those pretty, clear tears. She buried her face in her onee sama's chest and let out a sob. "I'm sorry you were hurting so much."

It struck a chord in Sachiko, resounding throughout her body in a way she could not possibly ignore.

Those words, that concern, those thin, warm arms wrapped around her, that cute face pressed to her chest– they affected Sachiko so greatly, so incredibly forcefully, it was a wonder she didn't, right then and there, shout her love out for the younger girl before the entire world.

_God, Yumi... you always think of me, even when I don't deserve it. Before yourself, even. You are so kind, so beautiful, and... and I love you. I love you so much._

She'd admitted it to herself before, knew it to be one of those unshakable truths, but never before had she had such a great desire to speak it out loud. She did not now because she was Ogasawara Sachiko, who, for all of her usual composure, was especially dense with these things and incredibly stubborn.

But she could not keep the love off her face, from her eyes, which softened immeasurably, radiating that which was not said. She could not keep it from causing her too smile- a gentle, beautiful thing to behold –and those staring at her, at both her and her petite souer, saw it as plain as day, that love, and felt their hearts lighten in accordance.

Yoshino, who had frozen at Yumi's interruption, slowly relaxed and sank into her seat, the fight suddenly going out of her, and Shimako's uneasy soul gave a tiny breath of relief. _Finally, _they thought. _Finally._

"You silly girl," Sachiko murmured, oblivious to their looks as she pulled the other girl close, leaning into that warm embrace, "don't you know? You're the one who makes it all better."

How lovely it was to hear those words- how glorious! If it were humanly possible Yumi would have grown wings in that moment, so light her soul was, even as something inside her tripped and fell flat. Something wretchedly sad.

Was love always this bittersweet? Happiness and pain at the same time?

_She has a right to know, _a small voice inside of her said, gently but firmly. _You can't keep it from her forever._

No, she couldn't. Even though she was dreading the moment, Yumi knew it was not something she could continue to avoid. It, along with the marriage, were things that could no longer be politely skirted. She and Sachiko needed to have a heart to heart talk… and it couldn't wait.

There simply wasn't time for it.

Yumi took a deep breath, pulling herself away slightly so that she could look into her onee sama's face- that starry gaze. She needed something to ground her, something to hold her so she wouldn't completely fall apart.

"Onee sama," she said quietly, doing her best to swallow her fear and only partially succeeding. "There's something I need to tell you."

There was a quiet gasp or two around the table- reflexive, automatic things –but Yumi ignored them. She had only eyes for her onee sama now.

Slowly she extended her hand, heart- tangled object that it was -fluttering wildly, and, gathering her courage, whispered quietly- "Will you come with me?"

It seemed, to those looking on, like a love declaration- and hearts swelled in anticipation, even as breaths found themselves being held.

Tensions had never been so high.

For Sachiko, staring deep into her petite souer's dark, honest gaze, there was no doubt.

Gently, she took the offering.

"Anywhere," she said quietly, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. It gave her a boldness she had forgotten she had. "With you, I will go anywhere."

Her fingers clasped Yumi's tightly, sealing the promise.

Said hearts soared, breaths being held hitched. Yoshino simply closed her eyes. _Thank you god. Thank you. _

Yumi's reply was a wide smile- full of tenderness and other happy things. That genuine Yumi grin. "Thank you."

Then, together, just like that, they left- hand in hand, light despite the darkness that surrounded them, facing their misgivings with a determination that made them strong- knowing that they had each other. Knowing that, no matter how bad things got, they had the other's support. Their connected finger tips proved that.

At least, thats how it was- for now.

The future, as always, was an uncertain thing. No matter how much one may wish otherwise, there are, in life, no guarantees.

Not for anyone.

Sometimes, it was a hard lesson to learn.


	12. Chapter 12

Hi. It's me, Confused-ish. *waves shyly*

I return once more (as requested) with a new chapter.

Thanks again commenters. I'm glad you're happy with the new chapters. It makes me happy too, even as I write, quite often, depressing things.

I am sorry I'm making all of you cry though. It is sad stuff, so I suppose it's only natural... I hope you don't hate me for it!

Again, I'll be short with the small talk. That's not why you all are here (I presume) and I'm a bit tired. I'm over my cold at last though- thank you for your concerns about that as well ^^

Anyway, chapter 12. Hopefully it doesn't disappoint.

* * *

Yumi brought Sachiko to the greenhouse.

There were many places she could have taken the older girl- in front of the statue of Maria sama, under the ginkgo trees, or even to that hillside where they had first become souers –but she chose the greenhouse instead; both because she wanted the privacy and it calmed her.

And right then, Yumi could definitely use some calm.

They didn't say anything as they walked- neither in that moment was quite sure what to say –Sachiko wondering where Yumi was going to take her and Yumi wondering what she was going to do once they got there. Truth be told, she hadn't planned the moment out- had just, on reflex, acted when she'd heard that sadness in her onee sama's voice. Her impulsiveness now left her in a bind of coming up with something, some way of phrasing what needed to be announced, and she thought about it as they walked.

Though the pair did not speak- wrapped up in their separate concerns –their hands remained firmly clasped as they walked, almost as though to show the strength of their bond. It did not matter, in that moment, that they had seen so little of each other in the previous few weeks. It did not matter that things they could not control seemed intent on keeping them from each other, that they each had their dark, despairing thoughts that caught up with them at night when they attempted to sleep. These things were, for the moment, pushed aside in favor of just enjoying being reunited… however temporary it might be.

Yumi shook her head slightly, troubled by the thought but no so much so that she was willing to let herself drown in it. Sure, her dark musings could be acute, even in the face of her newfound acceptance and the general appreciation she had for the life she had, until now, lived -but little reminders continued to dig at her. Like her body, for instance-, which was growing weaker -her breath coming to her in tiny, barely perceptible gasps as she towed Sachiko along- not easy for an observer to spot but quite apparent to the girl herself.

Mentally, she checked it off- easily fatigued, short of breath –as one of the many symptoms the doctors had given her. It meant her condition was, however minutely, worsening, and of course she couldn't completely wipe away the dread in the pit of her stomach, even as she held onto her determination– and her onee sama's hand –gripping it as though she never meant to let it go.

She did so, however, when they reached their destination- pushing open the door to the greenhouse and, upon entering, letting her fingers- after a brief hesitation, reluctance apparent –relax.

Sachiko followed suit and their hands slipped from each other's grasps- the gesture making them both feel surprisingly naked, a tad lonely –as they faced each other.

They remained quiet for some time- Sachiko and Yumi -neither really in any hurry to speak. Speaking meant bringing up subjects that both would have preferred to simply ignore, and they also appreciated the time they finally had to spend with each other. How long had it been since they had simply stood in one another's presence, just glad to be next to each other?

Too long. It had been too long, for both of them.

So they stayed that way for a while, glad for the moment, for being able to gaze at the other, Sachiko admiring how gentle Yumi looked, her face beautifully soft in the sunlight, her dark eyes positively shining.

She did not know that Yumi's thoughts were nearly identical, that she too was appreciating the beauty and grace of her onee sama, her lovely, kind onee sama- that she, like Sachiko, wished this moment could last forever, drifting into eternity and far beyond, out of time and space in a universe all of its own.

But even as the wish came to her, Yumi knew it couldn't be so. She knew that no one had an eternity, least of all her, and what little time she did have left of her life was not to be wasted.

So she broke the silence by taking a deep breath- ignoring the tightness in her chest, which was, she was afraid, very much related to her condition –and spoke.

"Onee sama."

Just that one phrase. Just that title that she'd come, over these years, to love, along with the girl that went with it.

Sachiko, upon hearing it, smiled softly. It was not the polite smile of Lady Sachiko, not a smile meant to impress, but an honest thing of softness and love. A beautiful smile.

"Yes Yumi?" she quietly prompted. "What is it you wanted to tell me?"

Again, these words were gentle, kind things, so kind that Yumi found them almost unbearable- _I don't deserve such kindness_ -even as they made her heart stutter, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks.

_Onee sama has a beautiful voice._

She forced herself to remain focused, to look at Sachiko and not look away, though it was tempting. As captivating as the older girl was Yumi's nervousness was almost nearly as strong. It made her hands clammy and her throat tight.

There were a number of things, in that instant, that she could say. She could ask her onee sama about the unhappiness she now knew existed in her, about the marriage. She could ask Sachiko if she was alright, if there was something she needed, or she could simply reassure her that she, Yumi, would be there for her if it was needed.

But Yumi knew these things were just distractions. They were, by no means, unimportant, but there was what Yumi had on her chest- those two stones of equal and great weight that threatened to crush her –and she needed to speak of them now, before she lost the will to do so.

So, again, she took a deep breath. Again, she looked into her onee sama eyes- she would never get tired of doing so –and stood a little straighter. And she resolved, in that moment, to speak the truth.

Yet even then, even as the beginnings of conversation bubbled up inside her, she faltered. Even with her determination something inside her quailed in fear, even as she parted her lips to speak. Her fear of rejection was so great that she was tempted to blow it off, to tell her onee sama that she simply wanted to stand in their special place together, knowing that the other girl was troubled.

But lying just wasn't Yumi's forte. Never had been. And she had waited too long to keep her feelings in any longer.

Sunlight glistened off the panes of the greenhouse, illuminating the small room, and Yumi- filled with trepidation but moving onward anyway, so scared her insides were shaking but somehow filled with courage at the same time -turned to her onee sama and, in one moment, thrust her heart forward to the other girl- held it out for possible destruction -and said, quietly but earnestly;

"Onee sama, I love you."

How easily those words fell from between her lips, tumbling out before she could catch them. How quick they were to escape, bursting forth heedlessly, without thought of the possible consequences. After all of that internal strife, after worrying for months about the repercussions of such a confession, the words themselves sprang forth so smoothly it was almost ridiculous.

Perhaps they'd simply been held back too long to expect anything else.

Yumi didn't stop there- couldn't. The words, now that they had begun, were not about to stop.

"I love you so much."

She faced Sachiko, unable to bear looking away, needing, somehow, to see that face, those beautiful, captivating eyes. She stared into them, her confession pouring forth as she locked onto those blue orbs, now identical circles of shock- of, dare she assume –happiness?

Yes, there was joy there, unless Yumi was imagining it. A kind of lightness, an acceptance that melted that surprise so that they were smiling, those eyes. Smiling and laughing and all of those happy things. There was no disgust in her onee sama's gaze. No gentle reprieve, no apologetic regret. In that gaze, there was only happiness of an all encompassing sort, and Yumi could tell, then, that her onee sama had something she wanted to say as well. She had not been her petite souer, had not been by her side, for all of this time, for nothing. These things she could simply tell, and even as it gave her strength it broke her.

Oh god, how Yumi wished she could leave it at that! If only it was just that joyful love confession she had to give, if only this was the one secret she had to get off her chest. But she could not- would not –deceive her onee sama. And though she would not presume, completely, that the other girl felt the same way- even if it appeared that she did -Yumi could not take the chance that the love was mutual and lure her onee sama in with a false sense of security, as if their love was the only thing that existed and it would keep them afloat.

She would not do that to her onee sama, not when the truth was there, burning her tongue, her soul, her heart, her entire body, wanting to hide and be free at the same time.

So even as Sachiko opened her mouth- eyes so relieved, so light, that Yumi felt a thread hope combined with a crushing wave of sadness –the younger girl held up her hand- trembling though it was -to stop her.

To save her from committing to something when she was still in the dark.

"I love you, onee sama. I always have."

Again, how glorious it felt to say that out loud, speeding up, against her will, her heartbeat- making it thump like a mad thing. But that happiness, she knew, was short lived, and she pushed it down, forcing herself to continue, despite her trepidation, the truth now reluctantly rolling off her tongue. "But there's something else."

Confusion- a hint of doubt -now entered her older sister's expression- for Sachiko was puzzled by what else Yumi could say, what more she could add when the beautiful truth of their mutual feelings was out there in the open _Yumi, oh god, I love you too!_ –but oh, how it ripped the younger girl in two to finish what she had begun! How easily elusive tactics came to her mind, how tempting it was to smile and say a quiet never-mind, it's nothing, and instead bask in the simple warmth of having finally, _finally_, let her feelings be known! But that wouldn't be fair to onee sama.

It wouldn't, in the end, be fair to either of them.

And so, even though it crushed her- slowly but surely wearing her down -even though there was a good chance that what she was about to say would forever ruin what time she had left- Yumi chose to say those words anyway. Her honest nature, her love for that older girl, would not permit anything else.

"Onee sama," she said sadly- oh, how sad she was! -as if the world around her was breaking and there was nothing she could do to stop it, dissolving into nothingness, her heart with it. "I'm dying."

And, with those two, simple words, the lives of Ogasawara Sachiko and Fukuzawa Yumi spiraled helplessly out of control.


	13. Chapter 13

Yo. Me- sa Confused-ish. Been a while, hasn't it?

Yeah, I've been busy with getting ready for college, since I leave in a couple of days. I'll try to keep working on the story while I'm down there, and do stuff before I leave, but it all depends how much of a writing mood I'm in and how much I can get done, yeah? Who knows, maybe I'll be able to finish before I go, but I kind of doubt it.

We'll see.

Anyway, hope I haven't lost all of you guys due to my longer (time wise) than normal update, and again, I'm grateful to you commenters. Comments let me know that you guys are actually reading the blasted thing, which, of course, makes the process worthwhile.

Anyway, I'm sure you're all impatient to get reading, so I won't keep you with my pithy words.

Chapter 13. Or twelve, if you don't count the prologue as a chapter. Whateves.

The drama between Sachiko and Yume continues.

Read to see.

* * *

Sachiko was a being of composure. She'd been nurtured this way since birth, to stand straight and speak politely, to carefully craft her words before she even thought of voicing them. She'd been taught, among other things, the etiquette of a lady, how to curtsy and dish out compliments with both ease and charm, to fake a laugh so that it sounded real.

Yet no one had ever taught her how to deal with something like this.

"_Onee sama, I love you."_

"_Onee sama, I'm dying."_

For a long minute she simply stood there, transfixed. As Yumi explained, into the silence, about her failing heart, her inevitable fate, Sachiko could not, for the life of her, move. Could not think. Her blue eyes, glued to her petite souer, looked lost. Were lost. She honestly didn't no how to react. Those words- those simple, life altering words -played over and over again in her mind, flooring her so that, for the longest time, she could not say a thing, even after Yumi had stopped speaking and was simply looking at her, abnormally still as well. They were the only things that existed, those wondrous, cruel words, hugging her heart even as they murdered it.

"_Onee sama, I love you."_

"_Onee sama, I'm dying."_

Those sentences, she thought dazedly, did not belong together. Not where Yumi was concerned. Not her petite souer.

Her love.

It was absurd. Preposterous. It was as though Sachiko had suddenly been told that the sky was red when she knew for a fact it was blue, that it couldn't be anything else.

To suggest otherwise was to lie.

_Yumi can't be dying. She can't be. It's just not possible._

She looked at her petite souer and said as much.

"Impossible." The word came out automatically, just slipped right out of her mouth without the usual check she kept in place, so completely taken aback she was, falling there between them- two statues that they were -flat and unavoidable. "That's impossible."

Yumi, in response, said nothing. Her lips, they didn't even move- didn't so much as twitch. She just looked at the older girl with that dark, sorrowful expression, one Sachiko had never seen before but could read nonetheless. Yumi never was very good at hiding her feelings and her onee sama could see there on her face something pitifully wretched, something guilty, in those eyes.

Those beautiful, haunted eyes.

They were apologizing without words for something Sachiko did not want to believe was true.

Something she could not believe.

"What kind of a joke is this, Yumi?"

She stared at the younger girl, her hands clenching at her sides helplessly. Unclenching. Her brain, her thoughts, her mind- they'd never experienced such turmoil. She didn't know what to think.

To feel.

"_I love you. Onee sama, I love you. I love you so much."_

"_I'm dying."_

"What kind of sick joke is this?"

Still, Yumi remained silent. Still, those eyes remained fixed on her, big and sad and painful to look at.

So heartbreakingly painful.

_It's not true. It can't be. There's no way._

"Is this why you dragged me out here?" Sachiko found herself asking, tone once more derisive. It helped to sheild her, that aloofness. Protected her from life's cruel offerings. Yet, for some reason, she could not hold on to it. This situation was stripping her calm from her, and she didn't like it.

Hated the helpless feeling it left her with.

"Did you bring me here to play some sort of prank?"

The words sounded, even to her, cold. Yet she could feel the panic in them. Her life, the surety of the world around her- it was disintegrating, dissolving away beneath her. How then, could she not be panicked?

How could her soul not writhe in anguish?

She did her best to ignore it. If she accepted her emotions than she was accepting what Yumi had said as being true.

And that was not something she could do.

Never.

She shook her head as if in disproval, bewilderment- this much, at least, an honest emotion –coming out in her voice. Her hard, unyielding voice that, to her astonishment, threatened to crack. "Why-" the word came out choked, as though she were pleading with the younger girl, and she paused, gathering herself so that her tone, at least, was steady. "Why are you feeding me these lies? Do you hate me that much?"

She looked at the younger girl- and when she did not respond -took a deep breath in the attempts of composing herself, for she was spiraling out of control, mind spinning without a sense of direction, a lump, somehow, rising in her throat. She urged it down, again giving her head a strange, jerking shake, to rid herself of these horrible thought she could not handle- _Yumi's not dying, she's not _–before she swallowed and spoke once more.

"Or is this your idea of being funny?"

Yumi's face- that face that could not lie –flinched, almost as though Sachiko had kicked her, and that made the older girl, for a moment, stop.

She hated seeing her petite souer in pain.

Yet she could not stand what she'd just been told either.

Sachiko knew, even in her confusion and sudden helplessness, that she was being absurd. That those words, the utter nonsense that was coming out of her mouth, was nothing more than the ramblings of a lost child. But she couldn't help it. She didn't understand how happiness could be stolen away so suddenly, how she could be so filled with joy one moment and so worried and confused and sick to her stomach the next. She felt as though she'd been punched, the wind simply knocked out of her, and now she couldn't get her breath back. She couldn't, no matter how hard she tried, regain her footing.

Soft words cut off her slowly sinking train of thought.

Twisted something in her chest.

"Onee sama."

It came out broken, that thin voice cracking with the simple title. A voice on the verge of tears.

At the sound of it something in Sachiko was stabbed, viciously and cruelly. Stomped upon, beaten without remorse, again and again. That little something- her crying heart -it gave a painful shudder, threatening to churn her stomach.

"_Onee sama, I'm dying."_

"Yumi-" her own voice, it wavered, and she had to, for a moment, stop. To take yet another breath.

Where, for god's sake, had her composure gone? What were all of those etiquette lessons for, why had she endured her parents harsh criticisms, if not for this? Yet it abandoned her in her hour of need- her icy exterior -leaving her achingly alone and vulnerable, oh so vulnerable, her chest heaving in terror, that beating muscle in it turning in on itself as she stared at that teary eyed girl, her Yumi, despair falling on her in waves, disbelief, confusion, hopelessness, threatening to tear her apart.

"I-" why, oh god, was she crying?- a half sob tearing from her throat even as she tried to hold it back, looking at her souer through her suddenly blurred vision, the world hazy as though she were viewing it from a rain slicked window as she tried to speak past her burning throat. "Yumi, you've gone too far."

"Onee sama-"

"-I can't deal with this," the older girl said, ignoring the painful cry from her souer, that anguished sound that begged a chance to explain, her mind and heart and body overflowing with things that were too big for her. "Yumi- this is...I," there were no words to explain her helplessness, her despair, and wordlessly her body shook, her mouth suddenly dry. "I can't deal with it."

_I can't stand knowing you're not okay._

Yumi, at this pronouncement, simply stood there, crying in earnest, glass like tears slipping down her sunlit face, beautiful and horrible at the same time, doing something to Sachiko in a way nothing else could, hurting her in a way she had previously thought was impossible.

Just as Yumi's announcement had.

She whet her lips, looking at her heart broken petite souer- her own heart, in the process, breaking over and over -and again, she forced herself to speak, unable to bear those painful noises coming from the other girl.

"I-"

Those words flashed through her-

_"Onee sama, I'm dying."_

-and whatever comforting words she had wanted to say simply vanished as she was struck once more with panic.

_Oh god, I can't do this. I can't._

_"_Yumi," she whispered, her voice, like her body, trembling. "I have to go. I- I can't stay."

This time Yumi did not say anything- she was crying too hard to -and Sachiko, she could not stand it. She could not be there, in that small room, listening to those gut wrenching noises.

She simply couldn't.

Stunned, her mind foggy with bewilderment, her insides unbelievably heavy, she stumbled past the sobbing girl, her own eyes still wet, breath hitching as she reached the door and wrenched it open.

_"I'm dying."_

She took one step out in the open, then another, and soon, before she knew it, was flying across the ground, her feet pounding against the pavement in a way they never had before, hair flying as she let her body move on instinct, shoving her thoughts as far away as she could.

She ran and ran, running as though she were the wind, unaware of her surroundings, of the stunned faces that passed her- blurred though they were -running so she wouldn't have to think. Of that girl, of those words, but even as she left her petite souer- who, unbeknownst to her, had fallen to the earthy floor and was simply laying upon it, curled in a ball of tears and anguish -she could not run from the ache in her chest, the tears on her cheeks.

She could not run from the truth of what had been said.

Her helplessness.

She could not run, in the end, from the image burned in her mind, those glistening tears, the sound of those broken cries.

And, knowing the futility of her actions, a very large part of Ogasawara Sachiko simply wanted to die.


	14. Chapter 14

Hello. Confused-ish, readers. Readers, Confused-ish.

We've met before.

Sorry for the long delay. I was (and still am) at a little place called college, and as a result I am a very, very busy bee. Well, soccer keeps me that way.

Soon we'll stop having double practices, so that should free me up a bit, but I won't be quite as fast as in the past. Sorry 'bout that.

Anyway, now that we've got excuses/explanations out of the way, I'll let you guys get to the reading; after a quick thanks. Again I'm glad for the comments- even though I've been gone for quite some time, you guys are still around and giving your support.

My thanks.

Anyway, chapter 14. Hope you like it- it's longer than usual.

Take it as an apology.

Well, have at it.

* * *

_Onee sama, I love you. _

The words repeated like a mantra in Yumi's mind as she lay curled in the fetal position on the ground of the greenhouse, her tightly shut eyes leaking tears. _I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you._

Of this there was no doubt. Yumi, with every fiber of her small being, loved her onee sama. Loved her with everything she had and was.

So why did her heart hurt so much, as if it had exploded into tiny little pieces all over her aching chest? Why did it feel as though she'd suddenly lost everything, when she had at last gotten those words out- had finally, after all of this time –gathered the nerve to speak them?

_Because, _a tiny voice whispered inside her- that small, insecure self she had come to loathe_ -now you know she can't love you back._

Because she was dying.

Yumi's hands curled into tiny, identical balls of anguish- nails diggings into the flesh of her palms as she let out a sob, one that tore throughout her entire throbbing body. Her cheek, pressed against the fresh soil, was slick with tears, her throat raw from her seemingly never ending crying.

_Onee sama…_

God, how she hurt. So much it didn't seem possible.

Yumi had not known, before, that such pain could exist.

She did now.

She also knew, with her second confession, that everything had gone terribly wrong. That it had been a horrible, horrible mistake to tell Sachiko the truth, because now there was no going back.

There was no chance of her being with her onee sama.

She kept picturing her. Sachiko. Her grand souer.

Her onee sama.

She couldn't help it. Again, the thought of her- that formidable, lovely image of the older, infinitely beautiful girl -was unavoidable. With no summoning- no warning, even –she appeared behind Yumi's closed eyelids as she had last seen her; incredibly blue eyes wet and disbelieving, questions trembling as they fell from her pale, elegant lips. And that gracious frame- instead of its straight, proud posture-

Shaken.

Unbelivably so. As though Yumi had somehow stomped upon it- or, with words, done something immeasurably cruel.

And she had. Maybe she hadn't meant to, but she'd been aware, while gathering her resolve, of the possibility. Had known- while whetting her lips in preparation to speak -the risks that came of revealing such stupid things.

Yet she'd done it anyway.

She was a horrible person.

_I'm horrible._

To see the pain on Sachiko's face in that instant before she turned and ran out the door- Yumi automatically stretching her hand out as she silently beseeched the older girl not to go (a gesture that went, for all of its desperation, unnoticed) –confirmed that.

Really, how selfish could she be? As if her feelings alone were all that mattered.

As if her love could change things.

Like the fact that she was dying.

Stupid. She'd been so stupid.

That ball in her throat- the lump that was, quite possibly, her heart, for all of the pain it caused her -threatened to make her choke.

_I'm sorry onee sama. Oh god, I'm so, so sorry._

"I'm sorry." The words came out mumbled, slipping from her tongue between sobs, somehow squeezed out with the gasps and teary cries, the choked breaths. "I'm sorry."

Yes, she was sorry. More so than she'd ever been. Why couldn't she do this right? Why couldn't everything be simple?

Why couldn't she love her onee sama without hurting this much?

Because life wasn't fair. Because sometimes, it hurt.

And Yumi hated it.

So caught up was she in her tears, in the guilt that drove her onto the floor and left her there as if she would never rise, she did not notice when Sei entered- though the older girl all but burst into the room, her arrival initially not quiet (though it became so as she froze in front of the doorway, staring at the young girl on the floor). She did not notice because of her sorrow- all encompassing thing that it was –and the fact that her eyes were still closed in an attempt to shut herself off from reality and everything that belonged with it.

_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Onee sama, I'm sorry for hurting you._

She wished that she could disappear.

-

Sei had watched, from afar, the spectacle of Sachiko's flight from the green house, not quite as shocked as the rest of the students who happened to be nearby to see the normally composed Rose in such a state of disarray. Perhaps this was because the older girl being there- by the greenhouse -was not mere happenstance.

The former Rosa Gigantea had, after all, taken to following the souers on occasion- both out of her usual curiosity and, more recently, due to the newly formed anxiety she found pressing forcefully upon her, the latter of these leaving the normally carefree girl troubled and unnaturally solemn.

Her immediate thought, then, upon witnessing Sachiko's departure had not been to chase after the dark haired beauty as she ran (despite how upset she looked)- but instead to go to the girl who she knew had caused such an occurrence. Because it was the latter of these- fragile thing that she was (even more so now, thanks to her confession) that Sei was worried about– and she too found herself running, though she did not have far to go. She had- quite strategically, if one thought about it -positioned herself in close proximity to the pair incase something like this were to happen- unsure, exactly of what would transpire- but knowing instinctually that something would, indeed, happen.

And so when she entered the greenhouse it was this expectation that prepared her for the sight that she witnessed.

It prepared her, but did not make it any easier.

_Oh Yumi, _she thought immediately, something inside her lurching as she came to a halt and simply gazed, forlorn, at the small, sobbing girl. Something sad and heavy.

For no one would find joy in witnessing such heartfelt tears- in looking at that pitiful, tiny figure, who cried as though the world were about to end.

As though it had ended.

Yet even though it hurt to look at the younger girl- brining back, unbidden, memories of her own past sufferings and abandonment that Sei would rather not have to remember –the former Rosa Gigantea did not let pain stop her.

Determinedly, she moved forward, her steps becoming slow and methodical as she allowed her concern for the other girl to manifest physically- kneeling beside her with care, sinking down quietly and thoughtfully so as not to startle her. Still, Yumi did not notice- until the older girl's hand fell upon her shoulder- the touch gentle in its compassion.

"Yumi chan."

The words, like Sei's movements, were calm and steadfast.

Soft. Kind.

Oh so kind.

These- the emotions behind the words -were things for Yumi to anchor on to. Things she could, somehow, grasp from the depths of her torment.

And her crying, somehow- with one long, shuddering breath –was put on hold, as she allowed awareness to creep over her. Awareness that she had, just a moment ago, done her best to push away. Her eyes, in accordance to this change, slowly opened as she peered through wet lashes at the older girl- helplessness, among other things, swimming in her dark gaze.

Drowning in it.

"Rosa Gigantea…?" Her voice, whisper soft though it was, cracked, as though she had a cold.

If only.

Sei, in response, smiled gently. She had resumed, it seemed, the role of the comforter.

It was for the best.

"It will be alright Yumi chan," she said, still speaking quietly. Refusing, despite the pain and empathy she felt, to look away. To abandon her.

She would not do that to that to her Yumi chan. Not when the girl clearly needed something.

Someone.

She took a light breath before pressing on.

"Whatever you said to her… it will be all right."

Then- fingers surprisingly steady -the older girl reached over and, just like in the good old days, placed a hand on Yumi's head, rubbing her silky hair softly as those doe eyes stared up at her; pleading, it seemed, for understanding.

For someone to make things right.

Sei never could resist those eyes. They were too… honest.

And, right now, too sad. Painfully so.

She did not know what she could do to help. Nothing, it appeared. And it hurt.

Badly.

She coughed to clear her throat- for it had threatened to close on her, which she certainly didn't need –and spoke again.

"You told Sachiko, didn't you? About..."

She did not finish the sentence. She did not need to. It was quite clear what she was referring to. And neither girl, at the moment, had the will to mention it outloud.

The heart.

Gaze still fastened on the older girl, confused by the turn of events- she could not understand, in the slightest, Sei's sudden prescence (though she did not to question it) nor her onee sama's sudden, all to abrupt departure (this much more painful) -Yumi simply nodded, sitting up quietly as she did so and turning to give the other girl her full attention.

Her life line from self destruction.

Sei, having affirmed her suspicions with Yumi's silent confession, simply continued to smile down at her, expression kind.

"She didn't react well, did she?"

This too was gentle. Sei, despite her usual careless manner, was painstakingly gentle. They- she and Yumi -would not have been able to continue the conversation if she were not. Yumi's heart- worn, for better or worse, on her sleeve for the world to see -was already a bleeding thing. It could only take so much abuse before it gave out.

Perhaps literally.

Again, Yumi did not speak but her eyes- was it possible for such despairing things to darken? -fell, and slowly, she shook her head.

No. Sachiko had not reacted well.

Not at all.

Sei- again, taking time to collect her thoughts, to word, a bit more carefully than usual, her words -was a bit chiding with her response- almost like a mother correcting her child. Not harshly, but full of love as she pointed out things one so young would not, perhaps, be able to understand on their own.

Not without a helping hand.

"Well, Yu- mi -chan-" her voice was light as she said this particular bit, starling the younger girl so that she (out of reflex) sat up a little straighter, "-you can't expect it all to be fine from the get go, can you?" Her tone dropped a bit- fumbled -if only slightly. "After all, you know Sachiko isn't very good with surprises."

_And, in this instance, how could she be? None of us took the news well._

Sei, in alignment with her thoughts, paused for a moment, fighting the sudden wave of sadness so that it would not show in her eyes.

So that Yumi would not have to see it.

"Especially a surprise like _that."_

Yumi's face, at these last few words, crumpled- expression almost haggard -and for a moment Sei thought she was going to start crying again. Which would have been too difficult.

Sei, after all, could not bear to see the younger girl cry.

Not again.

But Yumi surprised her. As she always, one way or another, managed to do. It was one of the reasons Sei liked her so much- her innocence, her naivete, those adorably cute reactions, sure- but it was her moments of unpredictability that made Yumi her Yumi chan. Somehow, the younger girl managed to rise above circumstances.

Even when it seemed impossible.

"I know."

Again, her voice was quiet- hardly louder than a breath. If Sei were not already inches apart from her she would have leaned in closer to hear those words, so faint they were. "I know," Yumi said softly, "that it isn't- that onee sama... that its not fair to her."

She stopped then, shaking her head slightly- sadly, even -before looking directly into the older girl's eyes- a different kind of desperation in them.

Something Sei understood a little better.

She too had once had her own Sachiko.

And lost her.

Her chest again shuddered before Yumi continued.

"But Sei sama-" that gaze did not waver "-I love her."

"I love her with everything that I am."

Sei- she could not help it -gasped slightly at this declaration. A barely audible intake of breath, but one nonetheless.

Though she knew of it- everyone knew Yumi's feelings (save a dense Sachiko, who was not, now, at all in the dark) -it was an altogether different matter to hear it said outloud. She listened, a bit bewildered, as the younger girl continued.

"I love her more than anything in this world."

Her voice rang with conviction- her eyes, twin orbs of honesty -radiated it.

And though Sei's spirits rose upon hearing this- one could not listen to Yumi in her purest moments and not feel such a change -the younger girl's next words pierced her to the very core.

Stabbed her clear through.

"But it doesn't change a thing."

She looked away then- out at nothing in particular -her eyes, once more, tired.

Dull.

"Because in the end dead is dead. And..."

Her voice turned, for lack of a better word, bitter- something Sei had never heard- or wanted -ever -to hear. A tone that all but broke her, along with her next words;

"I can't expect onee sama to love a corpse."

And Satou Sei, despite her best intention- despite her previous, calm demanor -finally snapped.


	15. Chapter 15

Hey there... again. I, Confused-ish, have returned- perhaps faster than anticipated?

Goody for you if that is the case.

Again, thanks for the comments. Glad you guys like what I have to offer... or are at least reading it. You don't have to like it... but then again, you don't have to read it if you don't like it.

I'm rambling; ignore me.

Anyway, this chapter isn't as long as the previous one, and its more like a baby step than an actual advancement in the story- which some of you might find agonizing -but its what I've got. More interesting (and sad) stuff will happen soon, so bear with it.

Ok, I've said enough. Commence with reading chapter 15, if you so desire.

I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

Sachiko ran because she did not know what else to do. Her heart and mind were identical whirlwinds of confusion, her thoughts and emotions equally painful. She didn't know what to make of them; couldn't even begin to deal with what they meant.

So she ran instead.

She was fairly new to it. Running, that is. It was not something, as an Ogasawara, that she'd ever been coached to do. In fact, she had always been taught that walking- and walking in a dignified manner –was much more suitable. Her parents believed that taking one's time to get to a desired destination conveyed something…

More.

Grace, power; a simple I-cannot-and-will-not-be-rushed-atmosphere that had been drilled into Sachiko since shortly after infancy- this is what they valued, and, as a result, what Sachiko had been brought up to value. It was a part of how she had been raised- a part of who she was.

Yet perhaps they-- her parents –-had been wrong. About being methodical, about the strength of doing things with elegance and measured calm. Because, in the end, there was something incredibly powerful about watching that dark haired Rose run- despite how unaccustomed to it she was –that walking would not be able to even begin to touch. Something to the raw desperation in her eyes-- those bluer than blue, holes in the sky eyes –-that won, hands down, to poise and whatever else dignity was supposed to mean in the world.

Despite all of the teachings Sachiko had been given over the years, passion, nine times out of ten, overrode logic.

And the raven haired girl, giving into her emotions, was terrified.

Overwhelmingly so.

It was ensnared with her sorrow- bubbling hysterically in her chest –the panic and dismay, the utter lack of understanding of why this was happening to her- why Yumi, of all people, had said those words.

That dark gaze, even now, haunted her. That soft, broken voice, ringing painfully in her aching mind;

"_Onee sama, I'm dying."_

It was these things- sadness, fear, confusion –that spurred Sachiko onward with no real idea of where she was heading. It was what sped up the racing of her painful heart, twisting that knife of agony in her chest in tune, it seemed, with each step she took.

A stab being driven forcefully into her lungs with each breath.

Killing her.

She did not know, then, where she was going. Could not bring herself to care. She only had that one figure in her mind- that small, doe eyed girl –that she desperately tried, without success, to rid herself of.

To forget.

Because it hurt to think of her. Incredibly so.

To have to think of anything at all.

And so she ran instead. She ran, and ran, and ran, abandoning her parent's ways- the strictness of their upbringing –with every desperate step she took.

And, whenever that image flashed in her mind-

_Soft brown eyes, swimming with tears, lips opening to say those words she did not want to hear-_

"_I'm dying"_

-Well, Ogasawara Sachiko simply kept on running.

--

Sei did not mean to hit Yumi that hard.

She did not mean to hit her at all.

But sometimes, people act out of instinct. And Sei's instinct left her hand tingling from its contact with Yumi's cheek and her eyes, hot with anger, glued to the younger girl's face.

For she was, among other things, furious.

So much so it surprised even her.

"Don't." she said. Her voice, flat though it was, trembled with anger, positively livid- beneath that slightly monotonous tone -with it. "Don't you _dare_ talk like that."

She balled the fingers she'd used to strike out at the younger girl into her palm, carefully fisting them, almost as though to prevent herself from lashing out again, though truthfully she was under control now. Her anger, although prominent, was in check, battling, it seemed, the other emotions that swamped her chest.

Squeezing it painfully tight.

Yumi, in response, simply stared at her, bewildered- her mouth a tiny 'oh' of shock. Her eyes were similarly rounded with surprise, and one small hand- it too, Sei could not help but note, incredibly frail -was pressed to her red cheek.

It was clear that she had no idea what the former Rosa Gigantea was talking about.

Sei's eyes- like Sachiko's in so many ways but not –continued to pierce the younger girl. She could not, even if she wanted to, look away.

Though truthfully, it was the last thing on her mind. Right now, she needed to drill something into the younger girl's obstinately thick skull.

Into her mind that seemed, for all of its bleakness, completely dense.

Infuriatingly so.

Still looking at her then- still upset (monumentally so) and unable to help her self, Sei said, into the strained atmosphere, quietly and deliberately through teeth that were gritted with tension;

"You are _not _a corpse."

And, just like that, understanding hit Yumi like a sack of bricks.

Deflating her.

Filling her with shame.

"Sei sama," she whispered, eyes, quite suddenly once more, leaking tears. She blinked at them and swallowed, at a loss for words in the sudden rush of emotions that over took her.

Making her, again, despise herself.

"I…-"

"-You are not dead."

Silently, Yumi's mouth fell shut.

And, for a long time, stayed that way.

The steel in Sei- that anger –wavered noticeably. Losing itself, it appeared, in sorrow. For the former Rosa Gigantea, despite the ferocity of her words- the anger she most certainly felt- was drenched in grief. Under the surface of her apparent displeasure, there was something darker. Heavier.

A sadness that pressed upon her heart as though in an attempt to crush it.

For Yumi, dead, was not something she could bear to think of, just as she could not stand the flatness that had been in the younger girl's gaze- a hopelessness that had chilled the blood in Sei's veins- positively freezing it.

A flatness that Sei could all too easily imagine being empty.

The eyes of a corpse.

And that was not something she could deal with.

Her shoulders, against her will, began to shake, and again, she had to swallow against the scratchiness of her throat. Again, she had to mentally straighten herself- to brace against, of all things- her anguish.

"You're not-" her voice, for what felt like the hundredth time, cracked, though she pressed on, despite this "-dead."

She continued to look at the younger girl, her gaze, this time, the one that was pleading. As if she needed Yumi to confirm this.

As if she needed convincing that the words she spoke were true.

That the younger girl, in fact, was not dead.

And Yumi… she could not bring herself to hurt her again. She could not, now that she was thinking clearly, forgive herself for her carless words.

Her stupid, hurtful words.

_I'm sorry Sei sama. I did not mean… _

Guilt overriding her, she bit her lip.

So hard she nearly drew blood.

_I'm sorry._

So she too pushed away at her sorrow. Swallowed against the rawness of her wounded soul, the ache that persisted in her chest, which she was sure, by now, had cracked in two.

And, somehow, she met the older girl's gaze- her eyes apologetic, her bitterness- that selfish side of her –fully gone. She never was, after all, very good at being selfish.

And instead, she spoke two, simple words;

"I'm not."

And though Sei looked, in response, relieved- even if it was only marginally so -it was really another girl, running for all that she was worth- running as though she would never stop -that needed that reassurance.

A girl with similarly blue eyes and a chest that, like Yumi's, had been cleaved apart. For her world was broken, and the only one who could fix it was less than whole herself.

A thin, pig tailed girl whose time was, quite unfortunately, running out.

A girl who didn't know, with what little of it she had left, what she could possibly do to make things right.

If, in the end, there was anything at all...

Or if it was already too late.


	16. Chapter 16

Hello out there. Confused-ish is back... with another chapter!

Fans, rejoice, enemies, bicker snidely amongst yourselves. It matters not to I!

... Anyway, sorry, again, for the long delay, but as I've explained, I get writer's block and have other activities and all that crap, so you guys are gonna have to work with me.

Setting that aside, thanks commenters/reviewers for your comments/reviews. Glad you're still reading, and glad you seem to enjoy the story (or/and are heartbroken by it) so I'm working on making both you guys and me happy by working towards the end of this thing! Which could still take awhile (or maybe not) so bear with me.

This chapter isn't, again, all too eventful, but hopefully you'll derive some pleasure from it nonetheless.

There is drama in it, after all.

Again, thanks, and I'll cut the idle chit chat so you can get to reading.

Hope you like.

* * *

Days- two of them –had passed since Yumi's most recent confession. Two long, long days in which Sachiko- thanks to a call from Sei and a proficient Ogasawara driver (who acted quickly after being informed of the whereabouts of the young ojou sama) -had made it home safely. It was now the weekend. Sachiko, as a result, was at home- specifically in her room –where she sat on her bed; quiet, contained, and numb. There were many things she could have felt at that moment- given the mind blowing events of the past few days –but the young Ogasawara did her best to feel nothing. It was better that way.

Safer.

She was not alone, though she would have preferred to be. It was easier, after all, not to think when you didn't have someone actively attempting to engage you in conversation.

Or, in this instance, a specific person who was doing their best to make Sachiko feel things that she would rather, quite frankly, not feel.

Yet despite her wishes-- whatever they may be (she had taken to, in the past few days, being rather tight lipped when it came to conversing; finding it more agonizing than she cared to admit) –Sachiko was not alone.

Though an unwelcome presence in many ways, her onee sama was there as well.

This time, she had felt a phone call alone would not suffice.

"Sachiko, its not the end of the world!"

The noise- the sound of those words –was loud in the previous silence of the room. After the subdued quiet of grieving- for whether Sachiko cared to admit it or not, that's what she was; a person who was internally crying for all they were worth, pained by events she could do nothing to change –Youko's voice was jarring. Harsh. But it was the words themselves- not the volume at which they were spoken -that most hurt Sachiko.

Hurt her deeply.

It wasn't, perhaps, the best thing that Youko could have said, but she was feeling rather desperate. And sometimes, desperate people do desperate things.

Borderline foolish things.

Sachiko, sitting on the edge of her bed, flinched slightly as the older girl spoke. There was no other word to describe it. Visibly she winced, as though her onee sama had slapped her.

Verbally, she had.

And it hurt.

Thinking about Yumi at all was like having her heart wrenched in two different directions- cruelly and relentlessly.

"_I love you-_

_-I'm dying."_

She could hardly bear it.

Youko was still standing there, her back to the large window and the fading light of the less than happy evening. Her slender hands were balled, unconsciously, into fists- showing, in the simple gesture, her inner turmoil to the outside world. At the same time she was still looking at Sachiko, looking at her with anger and sorrow and a hint of pleading in her eyes (though her petite souer, lost in her own world, did not notice it) and though she had lapsed, once more, into a temporary silence, her words replayed in the younger girl's mind.

"_It's not the end of the world!"_

Not the end of the world, she said…

How laughable.

Didn't onee sama realize? It was the end of everything.

The end of Sachiko's life as she knew it.

Her mind, in response to her heavy thoughts, spiraled further into a darkness she seemed helpless to escape. A darkness that she was, with each passing moment, absorbing under her very flesh- almost as though she would bleed with it if she were cut.

_Can't you see it onee sama? Yumi, she's, she's…_

_Dying._

That word-- that god-awful word --still managed to hurt her. To break, violently, any hope of repose- any serenity or peace or understanding that she might come across –with a vengeance.

Because Yumi was dying.

And Sachiko couldn't do a thing to help her.

Again, the raven haired girl felt a jab at her insides- deep and low. There were so many recently -so many punches her heart had taken –that she hardly reacted to it. Though it made each one no less painful.

She was just too tired, emotionally, to respond.

Youko's panic- an emotion she was not used to dealing with (the agitation settling over her unpleasantly, like pinpricks under her skin) –increased tenfold at the sight of her petite souer's expression.

The utter anguish in those sapphire eyes.

A hopelessness that seemed to swallow her whole.

It was not something Youko was used to- the panic she now felt. And it certainly wasn't something she ever wanted to get used to. She wasn't, after all, the kind of person who gave in without a fight. She was not someone who admitted defeat when victory was right around the corner- when she could use logic and reasoning to make it be there, so that she didn't have to taste the bitterness of loosing and loosing hard.

But, quite honestly, she _was_ at a loss. For once in her life, the reasonable, conscientious former Rosa Chinensis didn't have a damn clue what to do. Normally, when things were bad with Sachiko she turned to Yumi, because Yumi, in her simple, innocent way, knew how to make things better for her onee sama. She would smile, and say all of the right words—or somehow show the right emotions (her honesty an unfailing thing) –and Sachiko would be okay. Whatever hurts she had would mend.

But, unfortunately, Youko could not turn to Yumi now.

Not when she was the cause—however unintentionally it may have occurred --of this disaster.

Even if it wasn't the younger girl's fault—even if Yumi was hurting just as much as Youko's own petite souer was –it didn't even things out. It didn't make everything alright.

It just meant that more people were going to suffer. There was no avoiding that. And that simultaneously hurt and struck a chord of fear in Youko. Fear for what was going to happen to them. Fear for what _was _happening to Yumi… and what it would do to Sachiko.

When Sachiko did not speak- did not look as if she was even listening – (pain filled eyes distant and clouded) Youko was the one, again, to break the silence, unable to bear the tension of it.

Unable (now or ever) to look into the hollowness of her petite souer's gaze.

One that threatened to crush her into tiny bits.

"Sachiko…"

Her voice, despite her best intentions, came out weak- a contrast to her biting comment from before. It trailed off, faintly- a thin thread of what was once powerful -and she fell silent, again, as she looked to her petite souer. Her fragile, stony petite souer.

But Sachiko did not react. Not to her words, not to her tone- not to anything at all. She simply continued to sit on the edge of her large bed, saying nothing. She continued to look out at nothing with eyes that showed only a deep emptiness, and she continued to, in this way, hurt her onee sama.

Even if it was unintentional, she hurt her all the same.

Youko struggled, desperately, to find something to say- but she had nothing. She'd never encountered a situation like this before, had never had to deal with a Sachiko so broken, so lost, it was hard to look at her.

Even more impossible to comfort.

She wanted to scream at the younger girl and shake her, to hold her and console her. Yet it wouldn't help, she knew. She had never stumbled across a Sachiko who looked so forlorn, but she instinctively knew that this was something she could not, as an older sister, fix.

No matter how much she wanted to.

The only thing remotely familiar to this situation was the death of Sachiko's grandmother. It was nowhere near as large on the scale when compared to Yumi's news- Youko herself could hardly believe, even now, that it was really happening, that Yumi was dying, of all things -but nonetheless, it was vaguely similar—even if Sachiko's grief this time around was astronomically larger.

Then, too, however, the young Ogasawara had withdrawn from the world, Youko recalled. Slowly, quietly, she had tucked herself into an impenetrable ball of sadness, deliberately cutting her ties with her friends and family- turning instead to solitude and bleakness.

As if she thought to be alone in her grief was to fix it.

Or maybe she had no intention of fixing anything at all. Perhaps to her, it was simply easier to remain broken.

Another painful thought.

Youko, at the time, had also despaired, but she had, in the end, had someone to turn to. Someone she could count on.

Yumi.

Sachiko's curse and blessing. Her darkness and her light. She had been the one, with her antics, to make Sachiko- reserved, distant Sachiko -laugh. She had been the one to coach that same girl through her fears of the opposite sex- with a gentleness and open honesty that Youko had not even thought of using. Yumi, at the same time, had been the cause of Sachiko's inner doubts- the older girl not sure, as a member of the yamayurikai and as a person, if she was good enough, wise enough, to be the onee sama of someone so pure –making her, at times, frustrated to her wits end.

Youko knew this- from personal observation, from the words of her fellow yamayurikai, from Sachiko herself- who had confessed, without meaning to (countless times) her utter adoration and dependence on the young, pig tailed girl.

And thus Youko knew it to be true- Sachiko needed Yumi. Just as she needed food and the sun and other things, she needed Yumi to be her true self.

So of course this was breaking her, the older girl reasoned despondently. Yumi was the mirror that reflected Sachiko's flaws and graces- Sachiko had told her this herself. Her other half, in many ways. Who hurt her and comforted her but, ultimately, had her best interests at heart.

And, perhaps, she was the only one who could help Sachiko now.

It was, in a way, an absurd thought- but once it had surfaced Youko simply couldn't bring herself to let it go. Silently she toyed with it in her mind in the stillness of Sachiko's room, heart seizing up slightly at the possibility.

It was a long shot. Impossibly long. And, perhaps in the end, unfair to Yumi—to place a weight on her when she was already so weighed upon –but Youko saw, despite its downfalls, a slight sliver of hope. Of course she knew that, in the end, things would turn out badly either way- unless _please God _there was a miracle of some sort (one could only hope, against all odds, for such an outcome)—but maybe, somehow, it would turn out marginally better this way.

Maybe Yumi, with what time she had left, could heal Sachiko. Prepare her. Comfort her.

It was a thrilling, heart stopping thought. One Youko could not help but clutch desperately to her chest, latching onto it with purpose and determination.

Though of course, there was a possibility it could backfire too. That getting closer to Yumi, now, of all times, could make it so that when the she… died- Youko could not help but wince inwardly at the thought (she, too, had her own attachments to the young girl)–Sachiko would utterly fall apart. That it would tear her to shreds even more so than it was going to now, leaving her broken- heart wretchedly broken -beyond repair.

It was, Youko acknowledged sorrowfully, a possibility, and she quailed at the idea of it.

But if it would help her now, could she really let the chance slip away? Could she simply stand aside and watch Sachiko struggle once more on her own, to become miserable on her own, to sink into hopelessness on her own?

Could she let her petite souer fall into the darkness of her own despairing heart?

It was a horrible dilemma. The worst.

To have Sachiko push Yumi away and live a long life of regret (for surely if she choose to live without the young girl that was what would happen) only half alive as she purposely walled herself off from the world… Or to have her reel the girl in close, to be with her now and experience whatever happiness she could…

And possibly end with her utter self destruction when the curtains, finally, came to a close, alone and aching for a girl who was no longer there?

Youko shook her head, chest aching. It wasn't her decision to make. Yumi wasn't the girl she loved. It was Sachiko's choice.

Yet with this, she would be prodding Sachiko in a certain direction. And the guilt of it, she knew, would haunt her forever.

Still, she'd made up her mind. With a deep breath, she looked over at her petite souer- her suddenly tiny, shell of a petite souer, and spoke, again, into the silence, her voice slightly louder.

Filled, despite her inner misgivings, with conviction.

"Take Yumi to the ball."

A command- not a request.

And seeing the confusion in Sachiko's eyes- eyes that were suddenly focused on her -Youko thought, with relief, that perhaps this was the best thing after all. For at least Sachiko was reacting.

At least, for now, her soul was still intact. Not all hope had been lost.

And that was better, surely, than stumbling through life without emotion, severing ties with those she held near and dear.

... Right?


	17. Chapter 17

Hi, this is Confused-ish. Once again, it has been too long. My apologies. I myself am rather frustrated with how things have been the past couple of weeks (and my lack of writing) but that's a kettle of fish we won't be getting in to. I could, if need be, give you a few long winded explanations about my delay (which are all valid, I assure you) but I would simply rather not take the time to do so, and that's not what you come here for really, so let's just skip that whole part and get on with the story, shall we?

Commenters, again, I appreciate the comments/reviews. They are, as always, what keep me going, and again I apologize for my absence. I seem to have caused some of you some anxiety with it, but I hope you will be able to appreciate the chapter and forgive me for my transgressions.

For those of you who have awaited this next segment so long, I applaud your tenacity. Truly. I hope I have not lost all of you with my lack of communication/story producing skills.

But enough of that. Without further ado I give you chapter 17: Sachiko, Yumi, and preparations for a certain Ball.

Please proceed.

* * *

Yumi was going to the ball because she didn't have the heart not to go; because she didn't want to sit alone in her room, wasting away what little time she had left staring ahead at nothing and thinking depressing thoughts about what might have been. So she decided to go to the ball instead, even though she was terrified and anxious and dizzyingly confused, all at the same time.

Thinking of Sachiko did that to her.

She knew that her onee sama was going as well because Sei had told her so. And because Sei had heard this news from Youko- and Youko was one of those people Yumi knew from experience got things done –she trusted the information to be true. She trusted that even if her onee sama hated her—even if she felt betrayed and hurt and wanted to lash out at her younger sister (_rightfully so_, Yumi thought) –she would still be there.

It was this last bit of information that had the Rosa en bouten's stomach in knots- little wriggling worms of nervousness, guilt, and, if she were to be honest, excitement.

Yumi was sure, even if all else failed, that Sachiko would look absolutely stunning in her dress.

A blush, in accordance with this thought, spread guiltily across her cheeks.

_Stop it, _she inwardly berated herself, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before opening them, expression slightly haggard under the harsh lighting. Y_ou don't have the right to feel this way. Not after what you've done._

She winced where she stood, once more, before her bathroom mirror. Her hands gripped the counter in front of the sink anxiously; knuckles white from the pressure she unconsciously exerted and her lips were similarly pale, pressed together as they were in a thin, nervous line. Her eyes in contrast were wide, darkly scared things— much akin in their look to that of a deer caught in the headlights –frozen stiff with indecision and a vast, far reaching incredulity.

She couldn't believe that this was happening. That she was going to a ball, of all things, with Sachiko, of all people. Sure it was a school event, hosted by Hanadera for it's own students as well as souer pairs of Lillian, but it was still a dance. An elegant, formal attire dance that required waltzing and beautiful dresses and polite, enchanting conversation.

But mostly, it was a dance that required, from Yumi, a certain onee sama:

Sachiko.

Before, that would have thrilled Yumi; and, of course, made her more than just a bit nervous. Being with Sachiko in general made her feel that way- nervous, slightly out of breath, dizzy with happiness, tentative at times, strangely at peace during other moments -all of these hinging on her mental state (if she were currently at war with herself) and the condition of their relationship (which, when slightly at odds, made her at war with herself). Now, there were so many other things added into the mixture- so many… _complications_ –Yumi wasn't sure what to feel. She was confused and heart sick and wanted answers. For what she should do, what she should think, how she should go about fixing this whole terrible mess because it was her fault, the whole thing, and it made her miserable and achingly lonely and she hated it with a passion.

Love, trepidation, sorrow, guilt, a certain fluttering of butterflies in her stomach- it was an emotional overload.

_It hurts. Onee sama, why does it have to hurt?_

Her eyes flickered briefly away from her reflected image (ashamed) and then back again (stubbornly) expression tormented. Her hands, at the same time, flexed even further against the counter, almost as though they meant to crack it.

How, she silently wondered, could one heart feel so much? How could _she_ feel so much?

If it was going to hurt like this, why did she have to feel at all?

_Why?_

It wasn't fair. Life generally isn't, even under the best of circumstances. It gives and it takes and it just is, too big and too complex to be understood by something as insignificant as the human mind.

Yumi would just have to make the best of it.

She sighed, deeply and heavily, and forced herself to straighten. She brought her previously slumped shoulders upright and unclenched her hands; hoping, in the process, to somehow regain her spirit. It was hard- Yumi had never had to deal with the things she had been dealing with these past few weeks, had never had to struggle as much as she struggled now -but for the sake of what needed to be done she managed to do it; grasping her willpower once more and clutching it to her tightly and possessively, unwilling to let it go. She owed it to Sei, to the rest of the Yamayurikai, to her onee sama, to do so. Even if her chest hurt in a few different ways and her face was pale- _too pale_ -her breath slightly labored and she was, above all else, _dying_- she still owed it to them to do her best. She owed it to them to try.

So she would go to the ball and she would wear a pretty dress, and she would do her best to dance beautifully in it, and she would see Sachiko;

Even if it killed her to do it.

--

Sachiko was going to the ball because she couldn't not go; she couldn't stay in her too big house in her too big room, with thoughts that were too big for her to deal with on her own and her regrets just as large. So she got dressed and put on a little amount of makeup (it was all she needed- just a dash of it, if that) and she prepared to go to the dance instead.

She did not want to go; boys from Hanadera would be there (though it was boys in general she disliked, not solely Hanadera boys) and she didn't like crowded places all that much- detested them, really -but it would be worse to stay.

Because she would be thinking about Yumi.

Sachiko did not want to see Yumi but at the same time, it would be worse not to see her. Because as confused as Yumi made her feel- as hurt and absolutely terrified the very thought of the younger girl struck in her (tearing her into a million painful shreds seemingly without remorse) -Sachiko needed to know that she was okay. She needed to know that the world had not really ended, that Yumi's words- those damning, life changing words -had not yet been carried out.

That dying had not turned to dead.

Her heart, just at the mere thought of it, faltered and threatened, in a stuttering, tumultuous way, to stop.

_Yumi..._

It was irrational, Sachiko knew, to imagine such things. Preposterous. She was aware, deep down, that Yumi could not be dead because she would feel it; she would know somehow, instinctively, down to her very bones, if any harm had come to the other girl (_god forbid_) so of course she knew that Yumi was, in fact, very much alive.

Though not well.

She was a hypocrite.

_You are a hypocrite, Sachiko._

She admitted this to herself silently, cringing at the revelation. _Yumi was hurting but y__ou didn't care to see it, did you? You were too busy thinking about Suguru- about the marriage. _

She spat the word out in her mind with the same vulgarity used to mention things like feces and decay- _marriage -_the word she hated almost as much as she resented Suguru; deeply and perhaps a bit unfairly. He alone was not to blame for the marriage, the arrangement as it were that had been set in stone practically since infancy, but when it came to him and the Ogasawara's and anything to do with the two Sachiko did not care about fairness. She cared about Yumi.

The girl she loved.

_Even so, you did not know about her, _she thought, the tone she directed at her self of the utmost harshness. Unflinching as it dolled out dose after does of self loathing._ You did not know that she was hurting, did not care to know. _

_And now she's dying._

Sachiko swallowed, hard.

Dying_,_ she insisted firmly as another wave of pain washed over. Not dead.

How laughable, that that should be reassuring. How unfair- to find relief in something so horrifying.

_Some onee sama you are, Sachiko. You still believe in the other side of the rainbow? In you and Yumi?_

How sad indeed.

It hurt, to imagine her face. Hurt Sachiko terribly. To see it in her mind's eye that picture made lovely in its honest simplicity, that adorable cuteness- enthusiastic grin firmly in place on that small rose mouth, her pretty cheeks flushed with a captivating liveliness that begged for Sachiko's fingertips to brush against it, just ever so softly-

-And to then imagine never looking upon it again. Never touching her again.

It hurt so goddamn much.

But Sachiko needed to see her, all the same. Needed to hold her, to feel the skin of the other girl's palm, and to know, in this foolproof way, that it was still warm. That Yumi was not planning on leaving her.

Not now, not ever.

She paced as she waited for Youko to pick her up, the older girl having promised to do so after Sachiko harshly denied Suguru's offer (he was going to the ball as well- it was his school after all) -too angry to even look at him properly and now too anxious to sit still. Her mother, she knew, would not approve of her nervous impulse (nor her father, for that matter) but Sachiko would be damned if she let that stop her and so she carried on as she was anyway, defiantly walking back and forth, her pace not quick but her fingers twitching at her sides every now and again in a way that indicated her inner struggle and her eyes, without thought, going to the clock in the parlor. Dreading the moment seven approached even as she could not help but, in some strange way, look forward to it.

She was sure that whatever Yumi wore, she would look adorable.

_You are not going to ogle Yumi, Sachiko. You are going to talk to her._

_Not matter how pretty she looks._

Mentally, she groaned. What indecision she faced!

She was not sure, after all, how to approach Yumi. She was not sure of anything now- the surety of the world having broken away from her with her younger sister's disturbing declaration -and it left something dark and painful gnawing at her aching belly.

Indecisiveness.

It seemed that this, above all else, was what weakened Ogasawara Sachiko. Take away her stubbornness- the proud dignity of her defiant, bold nature -and what was left in it's place was a weak, hesitant shadow of a figure, stuck with a wavering conviction and mass of turmoil.

It wasn't, most of the time, pleasant for Sachiko. But it was something she had grown used to, because she knew the reason for it.

Yumi.

Yumi made her this way. Indecisive. Sachiko was putty in the younger girl's hands and Yumi, without noticing it, without being aware in the slightest (charmingly so to her onee sama, if Sachiko was in an endearing mood, absolutely frustrating if she was sulking) molded her into a bumbling fool, blushing at the silliest things and being filled with the strangest of longings.

Yumi made her weak, even as she made her strong. For no one was as affected by Yumi as Sachiko was. No one was moved to such helplessness by Yumi's tears, nor encouraged so much by her wide grin. Yumi hurt her and healed her, confused her and comforted her. In the end, Yumi was all Sachiko needed.

And so she would go to the ball. She did not care about the boys that would be there, the vast population of them, and she did not care that it would be crowded, or even that she would be expected to laugh pleasantly at the most mindless of things and curtsy and act in a demure fashion.

Because Yumi would be there, and that's all that mattered.

Now and forever.


	18. Chapter 18

Hi everybody, confused-ish here and raring to go. A pleasant change, no?

Commenters, thank you, deeply and honestly, for your reviews/comments. I'm glad to hear so many of you are touched by this story, especially those of you who are reminded of relatives whom you have lost. It was not my intention to bring back such sad memories, and I know it can be a quite an ordeal to be reminded of such things, but I am glad my work is able to draw such profound responses from you. It is humbling to say the least. I can only hope I don't disappoint you all with whichever way this thing ends up turning out (I will not tell you in advance) but I'm glad you have enjoyed it so far. I hope you continue to do so.

A little notice; this chapter is quite long, which some of you may not be used to (I do not write super long pieces in general) but I hit a stream and just kept going with it. Hope that pleases you more than annoys you as, again, it is very lengthy.

Thank you for your time and without further adieu, let us press on.

Chapter 18: The ball part I

* * *

The ride to Hanadera was silent. Really, there wasn't much to say- not between Sachiko and her onee sama. Youko had already said all that she could say to her petite souer and if she was lucky Sachiko had listened to some of it, though the older girl was aware that this wasn't likely. If the distant look in Sachiko's eyes were any indication the young Ogasawara's thoughts were on something entirely different than her onee sama's unwelcome advice. Not that Youko minded too much. She knew that the real issue at hand was not something she could alter and that she had already played her part in whatever it was that was going to happen between the two. It was up to Sachiko and Yumi to set things right.

Still, she could not help but feel frustrated by the foreseeable torment in the future- and her inability to do anything about it. Youko did not like watching her petite souer suffer, did not like being helpless. It was unpleasant and annoying as hell and normally she would do all she could to fight against it. But there was nothing she could do. Not here, not now, and the sooner she accepted that the better off she would be. So she held her tongue and simply tightened her hold on the steering wheel, unable to curb her urge to sneak glances in the review mirror at a window gazing Sachiko.

To Youko, the fifteen minute car ride seemed to last an eternity.

--

Sachiko's gut was whirling with anxiety and a whole slew of emotions her blank expression did not show. She was good at that (not showing her emotions) but she was not good at dealing with the conflicting feelings inside her, each tugging her in a different direction. She wanted to run and hide, to scream and vent her frustration for the heavens to hear, to sob her weary heart out until it finally ceased its relentless anguish.

But she simply sat in her seat and stared out the car window with a vacant look on her face, blue eyes heavy with remorse and other deep, unnamable things.

To the young Ogasawara, it seemed as if it had only been a moment since she had stepped into the car when it stopped again and Youko softly announced, into the sudden silence, that they were at Hanadera.

At this quiet declaration, Sachiko's chest seized up for a moment before she remembered how to breathe.

_Yumi._

It was going to be a long evening.

--

Standing just outside their shared bathroom, Yumi thought Yukki looked rather dashing in his tailored black suit. She told him as much.

"You look handsome."

At her comment Yukki turned from the mirror where he had been busy straightening his tie (also black) looking Yumi over with a smile that did not quite reach his tired eyes. "Thank you onee chan. You look beautiful as well."

And he meant it. He had never seen Yumi so dressed up before and it was lovely to behold. She practically glowed, even if she was a little too pale for his liking. Still, she looked good in a dress and with her hair down.

Sadly, it only served to remind him of all of the opportunities she would miss to pretty herself up in the future, and pain hit him like a sledgehammer.

Yumi did not notice at first, brushing off his compliment in a teasing tone. "Beautiful and me don't go together," she said, chuckling a little. "I'm clumsy and plain, but I've made my peace with it. Now onee sama... I'm sure she'll look amazing, don't you think?" A smile graced her features until she caught sight of her brother's haggard expression, and her slightly forced cheer immediately faded.

"What's the matter Yukki?" she asked softly, stepping toward him with a frown. "Are you feeling okay?" Her voice was laced with concern.

Yukki could not help but find the situation ironic. _She's asking me if I'm okay? Really? Me?_

It was, in his mind, quite astounding.

In a way, it was good to know that she was still the same old Yumi- worrying about other people before herself. But at the same time, it wasn't good at all. Right now, she was the one Yukki was worried about and he could not, because of this fact, fully appreciate her selflessness.

Not when he needed her to be selfish.

Because of this he found anxiety tugging at the pain that already laced his chest, and when he looked at his sister he could not answer her. He could not say that he was alright.

Not when she obviously wasn't.

"You don't have to do this," he whispered to her instead, waiting until the silence had stretched to the point of awkwardness before speaking, his manner urgent and pained face beseeching. He was staring at her with more than a hint of desperation and Yumi didn't know what to think of it. It was a little unnerving, his sudden onslaught of emotion, and she could only listen mutely as he continued, words pouring from his mouth in a great rush, as though he were afraid they would not be understood otherwise. "You don't have to force yourself to go- not to see her! Surely, if she cares about you-" and he had no doubt that she did "-she would understand!"

Silence, again, followed this last statement. They both knew, brother and sister, of whom he was speaking. And the implications of it were not to be taken lightly.

Yumi was still for a long moment, frozen, and Yukki waited anxiously for her to respond. He did not mean anything bad by his comment (he had only the best of intentions) and he truly did not blame Sachiko for any emotional burden she may have inadvertently forced upon Yumi, as he recognized his sister's current situation as an impossible one for even himself to deal with. The thought of losing her was... unbearable. Yet he wanted to do what was best for Yumi. He did not want her sense of guilt toward Sachiko to be the reason she was forcing herself to go to the ball. He did not want her to go with a multitude of high expectations, only to be crushed when they failed.

Mostly, he did not want to see her in pain.

For a long moment, there was only silence. That ever present, invasive silence. It lasted for an eternity, Yukki felt, his nervousness growing and a regret blossoming deep inside him even as he stood firmly by what he had said. By his conviction of protecting his sister. It stretched on, the silence, as persistent as Yukki's internal misgivings and resolution, Yumi simultaneously quiet and thinking and unreadable, even to her twin brother.

And then, quite suddenly, without any warning save a slight relaxation of her shoulders, Yumi let out a soft breath and smiled up at him (he being an inch or two taller). Its was one of her honest ones, and some part of Yukki could not help but give way at the sight of it.

"Thank you, Yukki."

The gratitude was evident in her response.

Yukki, in reply, simply stared at her. It was not what he had expected, even though he hadn't known what to expect, and his next statement, as a result, was questioning.

"Onee chan...?"

"Thank you," she repeated. "I...-" she paused, seeming to struggle for what to say in that short amount of time, wrestling inwardly with her thoughts, and then, upon giving up, her smile turned sheepish. "-Thank you."

And, without another word, she stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

Yukki, once he got over his surprise, hugged her back.

Her frailty scared him. Through the fabric of their clothing he could practically feel her bones sticking out in some places and it filled him with such sorrow he had to blink back tears. _She's getting worse, _he thought in anguish, a lump throbbing somewhere at the back of his throat._ Already, she's getting worse._

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of her voice, muffled slightly against his shoulder. Her beautiful, innocent voice.

He would miss it so much.

"Yukki," she asked hesitantly, her hair tickling his neck slightly where it brushed against his skin. "Do you remember when we were little, and our house caught fire?"

The abrupt change in topic threw him for a loop- _where is she going with this? _-but, quickly recovering, Yukki dutifully answered her.

"You mean," he asked wryly, "when you put the metal cup in the microwave and the kitchen almost burned down?"

How could he forget? It had been a disaster, their mom and dad running to and from the kitchen frantically, screaming and in hysterics while he and Yumi simply gazed at the flames in awe, stunned into immobility. The house had reeked of smoke for weeks afterward. Luckily, they'd had a fire extinguisher, or who knows how much damage there would have been.

Yumi laughed a little at his dry tone. "Yeah." Her chuckle quickly died away and her voice, if possible, grew even softer. Smaller.

"Do you know," she pressed quietly, "what I was thinking about then?"

Yukki, after a moment of hesitation, wordlessly shook his head. No, he didn't, and he wasn't sure where she was going with this. Still, he did not stop her. Could not.

She always turned him into such a pushover.

In response Yumi leaned closer, resting more of her weight against him. Yukki couldn't help but notice that she was a lot lighter than she used to be, and he drove away the pain this thought brought before it could fully take root.

Before it became unbearable.

"I was thinking about you," she whispered. "And mom and dad. About our picture albums, and the baby blanket grandma and grandpa made us, and mom's favorite vase that she always uses." She took a deep, shaky breath. "I was thinking about the things that really matter."

Shock ran through him at her words, and her hold on him tightened for a moment as if recognizing this before she slowly pulled away, staring deeply into his eyes, her own resolute. "I was just a kid and not very smart and I really thought that that little fire was going to kill us all, but even then I knew what mattered. It's the same now." Her grin turned a little crooked. "I'm still stupid, and I had to wait until I was dying to realize it, but I can finally see what matters."

Slowly, her smile disappeared as the seriousness came, deep and unwavering. "I love her Yukki. So much. I know-" her voice cracked as the tears, at last, came, but she forced herself to continue "-that I'm being an idiot, but I need to see her. I need to tell her, just one more time." Her watery eyes drove straight into his shocked ones, unflinching in their conviction. "It might be the last chance I get."

And Yukki... Well, how could he argue against that? How could he fight his hard headed, big hearted, unyielding sister when she was looking at him with those eyes, speaking these worldly, wise words, knowing she was right and that it wasn't just the fact that she was dying that made her so? And even though he wanted to cry- he cried so easily, it felt, in these past few weeks -he somehow did not, but instead broached the distance between them again with one long step (his body and heart reacting before his mind had the chance to catch up) to rest his forehead upon her own, noses mere inches apart as he smiled a pained smile of his own making. A kind smile that gave with it a blessing of sorts, even if it was, indeed, a very hard thing to give, especially when all he wanted to do was to keep his big sister home and safe. Even if her safety was relative and he knew, deep in his aching heart, that he couldn't protect her anymore. No one could.

So instead he would do his best to make her happy, and pray that that was enough.

"Okay," he said quietly, voice thick with the tears he did not shed. He closed his eyes, the gesture heavy, and took another breath. "Okay."

And with this Yumi knew that Yukki would not press the matter further. She knew, with the utterance of this single, soft spoken word, her brother was, at long last, letting her go.

And so she smiled back and rested her own eyes, whispering the same thing back _"okay," _praying that when she was gone he would find the strength to move on without her.

That they all would.

Automatically her thoughts wandered to the ball and a certain blue eyed girl, and her prayers went out to her as well, hoping that in the end everything would turn out alright.

It just had to.

--

Sachiko did not appreciate the noise. She was hardly in the mood to appreciate anything, but she especially did not appreciate the chatter that accompanied the long dance hall. It grated unpleasantly against her ears, the laughter and small talk, and it was only her onee sama firmly rooted by her elbow that kept her from bolting for the exit. That, and a slight, unsteady increase of her heart beat, which let her know that Yumi was near.

She could feel it.

"Sachiko, stop fidgeting."

She had not realized she was until Youko pointed it out, but her hands were indeed playing with a simple charm bracelet she wore on her wrist, fiddling it back and forth absently. It was a birthday gift from Yumi.

Her mind traveled to an image of a pig tailed Yumi shifting on her feet nervously before thrusting out a small white box to her, a bashful grin covering her face.

_"Happy Birthday, onee sama."_

Sachiko, taking it carefully, had opened the lid to reveal a slim silver object which glinted beautifully in the sunlight, a sapphire set in its center.

She had been taken aback_. "My!" _It was beautiful, and looked expensive, which she remembered chiding Yumi for.

_"You must have spent a fortune on it! Really Yumi, you shouldn't have."_

Stammering, Yumi had explained how it had caught her eye when she passed by the jewelry store on her way to school, and how she had immediately thought of her. When Sachiko asked how so, Yumi had paused for a long moment, fidgeting again, before looking up at her shyly.

_"Your eyes, onee sama. It reminded me of your eyes."_

Sachiko had loved the bracelet, but she loved the blush that covered her petite souer's cheeks even more when she told her this.

It was one of her happiest memories.

When she realized what she was doing (both physically and mentally) Sachiko immediately stopped, but she did not verbally acknowledge Youko. She was too preoccupied with her thoughts.

_Where is she? _She wondered fretfully. _She's late. __Not that I care_, she tried to reassure herself_. __ Really, it does not matter to me either way._ But the thumping of her heart told her otherwise. She longed to see Yumi, and her body betrayed these longings, even if her mind was being its usual stubborn self.

Because of this internal battle she was totally unprepared when she finally did see her.

Completely and utterly unprepared.

--

Yumi, making her way up the Hanadera steps with Yukki at her side, knew that Sachiko was close. She could feel her with each step she took, every breath she inhaled, each in tune with the throbbing of her chest.

The one that let her know that her time was running out.

_Please heart, don't fail me now, _she silently urged herself, her hand unconsciously tightening around her brother's, which remained steadfast and unwavering. Not that Yumi noticed. Her eyes were glued to the entrance and her mouth was suddenly dry, tongue as rough as sandpaper as she attempted to swallow, her skin cold and her chest unbelievably tight.

As they drew closer and closer to the gold colored knobs, Yumi's heart beat grew faster.

Finally after what seemed to be a disconnected movement through space and time, brother and sister reached the last step and Yumi braced herself.

_I'm coming, onee sama, _she said silently. She took a deep breath as she prepared to step inside, steeling her jittering nerves.

_Wait for me._


	19. Chapter 19

Hey. Long time no see. Confused-ish, reporting for duty.

Sick, again (some-goddamned-_how_) and even worse than last time. Don't think I'll croak though, so that's a plus.

Sorry for the delay- it was, again, a long one. To forgive or not to forgive- I'm too tired to care.

Commenters/Reviewers, thanks for the comments. They're appreciated, really and truly, and it is for you (well, and myself) that I continue.

I apologize in advance for any spelling blunders or inconsistencies in the story; as previously mentioned, I'm kind of under the weather, and might be prone to missing mistakes because of it.

Well, enough chit chat. Let's get down to business.

Chapter 19: The Ball, part II

* * *

She was beautiful.

This Sachiko knew without a doubt. It was more obvious to her than the fact that the earth spun in circles and that gravity existed and chocolate was a divine sweet to be taken in small doses.

Yumi was beautiful, and Sachiko could not stop looking at her.

Standing in the doorway with her hair cascading down her back in waves of glorious hazel brown, her eyes, dark and enchanting on a face that beckoned to Sachiko on so many levels it shouldn't have been possible, this was a known fact; Yumi was beautiful, and it mesmerized Sachiko.

It was evident in the way she had frozen, her body ceasing movement in a single instant of complete stillness, her gaze riveted on the entryway as though it- she -would never look away. It was evident in the way her hand suddenly gripped Youko's arm (the other girl having come up to her upon hearing her gasp of surprise) tightly enough to make the former Rose wince, though Youko did her best to ignore it. She was staring at Yumi too but not in the way Sachiko was- not with her heart and her body and her entire being –just with certain waves of thankfulness and regret.

She knew, whatever happened this night, she would be partially responsible for it, and the burden of this knowledge was great.

Sachiko, however, was unaware of these things. Of her onee sama, of her monstrous grip on said girl's arm, of the intense look upon her own face (longing and bewilderment and a softness that was positively compelling) as she stared at her petite souer, a complex whirlwind of utter feeling and emotion tearing through her.

All she knew was that Yumi- _her Yumi _–was beautiful, amazingly so, and she could not stop looking at her.

Would never, it seemed, be able to stop.

As a pale, chiffon dress of the softest pink (so faint it was almost white) clung to her love's small frame and silver glinted across her neck- a silver Sachiko could not help but recognize as the rosary she had given her petite souer (a moment she would never forget) -all of it clicked together to form an image that was, to the young Ogasawara, in a word, perfection.

She was perfect in every single way, and even that word was not enough to describe the entirety of Sachiko's emotion toward the younger girl. Yet perfect would have to do because there were too many other words she would need to add together to even close to even describing the younger girl. Too many numerous, wonderful things that could be said, sung even (for surely Yumi, in all of her splendor, in all of her wondrous completion, deserved a song, Sachiko reasoned), and so perfection was what the Rosa Chinesis would use in its place.

But of course, she was Yumi.

What else was Sachiko to expect?

- -

Sachiko was stunning.

Absolutely, undeniably, amazingly stunning.

_A goddess come to earth._

That was what ran through Yumi's mind as she stopped, instinctively, in the doorway of Hanadera's entrance, her eyes somehow (inexplicably) going to her onee sama, even though they were yards apart from each other, separated by ignorant, chatty couples and whirling dance partners alike and had no way, really, of knowing where the other stood. They just, somehow, knew.

Yumi knew.

In her heart, in her soul, in that place deep in her chest that hurt and continued to hurt (a throbbing, relentlessly pulsating pain) she knew of her onee sama's presence and instantly found it.

Never would she doubt her ability to do so. It was natural and instinctive and she would not trade it for anything, just as she would not give up her love for Sachiko for anything.

Ever.

_Onee sama, _she thought with a shaky, whisper of a breath, unable to tear her gaze from the vision before her; _you are beautiful._

And it was true.

Ogasawara Sachiko, heiress of the Ogasawara's, Rosa Chinesis of Lillian, was a beautiful creature. There was no denying it. With her pale skin and full, coal black tresses that spilled elegantly down her bare back, wearing a silk dress of the deepest, most rich sapphire- one that complimented her darkly lashed, haunting eyes and revealed her unblemished shoulders, delicate collar bone, as well as that slender neck of hers -her natural beauty was only enhanced on this magical night.

She was beautiful, and Yumi loved her. With everything she had and was, she loved her onee sama.

Which was why she knew this was going to be the single hardest, most thrilling night of her short life.

She could only pray to Maria sama for luck.

God knows she needed it.

- -

Sachiko broke the stillness.

It was unexpected- to both her petite souer and her own onee sama, who felt her arm being released and could only watch in stunned silence as Sachiko moved away from her with both purpose and determination. Youko had thought she would have to pry Sachiko's fingers apart to get her to detach them from her arm (so furious and deathly was her grip) and she had (unbeknownst to Sachiko) entertained the thought that when the time came she would have to physically push her souer toward Yumi, having witnessed Sachiko's apparent meekness and sense of loss in the past hour.

Yet it appeared she was wrong.

For once, she was not upset by this fact, instead proud as she watched Sachiko's straight back draw further and further away from her, head held high and each step measured with calm determination.

Perhaps, she mused silently, all was not lost after all.

It was unexpected to Yumi, whose eyes widened at the sight of her onee sama, in all of her glory, striding toward her, elegantly and gracefully but her eyes alive and burning with something else, something Yumi could not name but was sure, nonetheless, of its existance.

Because her eyes were filled with it too. Swimming with it as she met her onee sama's gaze, pulse jumping and nerves tingling.

And even though trepidation was there (how could it _not _be?) anticipation had become its partner and eagerly awaited the older girl's arrival.

Yumi practically held her breath in her aching chest.

It was an unexpected happening, Sachiko moving at all, taking the first step forward, because even though the young Ogasawara was bold and defiant and had a way of pushing peoples' buttons (purposely and cooly) she had not been that way in what felt like a long time. Her courage, it seemed, had been misplaced, perhaps (definitely) since she had announced to her marriage to a man she did not love.

But, looking at Yumi, she found it again. Her energy, that spark- it washed away easily (though perhaps temporarily) her hesitation, the darkness that had clung to her like mist and threatened never to let go. Yumi's mere presence, as always, affected her, and she found herself moving forward with will power alone, her tentative doubt gone as she realized that she could not stay away.

Would not.

She stopped before Yumi. Came to a halt, quietly and in a dignified manner, before her.

And she paused.

Yukki, upon the older girl's approach, had let go of his sister's hand and stepped back, simply watching, his expression blank and vaguely solemn. His eyes met Sachiko's only briefly- a silent _"take care of her" _comprised in the look (which Sachiko only acknowledged briefly, her object of attention pulling on her too strongly for anything else) -before he slowly allowed himself to meld with the crowd, grieved and hopeful at the same time.

And then there were two.

One Ogasawara Sachiko.

One Fukuzawa Yumi.

And thought the world did not stop, it might as well have; for to each other, they were the only ones that existed in it.

Again, surprisingly, Sachiko was the one to make the first move. The evening, it seemed, would be one full of surprises, and the young Ogasawara had been elected, it appeared, to get the ball rolling. Unobtrusively, subtly, she began the events that were to take place that night.

Her heart was hammering as she did.

She took a deep breath. Brushed the hair from her eyes with a barely perceptible flick of her head, needing to be able to see the girl in front of her.

Need and want, they were the same. She wanted to see Yumi and so she needed to see her.

It was as simple as that.

Summoning what little bravery she had left (having expended it with her bold approach) she held out her hand, palm up. And even though she was Ogasawara Sachiko, with a lot of money, an abundance of good looks, and mountain of supposed self assuredness, she could not stop it from trembling, or the nerves that caused it to.

At least it was absent from her voice when she, at last, spoke. For this, she could be thankful.

"Dance with me."

They were the words that came to her mind, her lips, and so they fell from them, even but forceful, as she stared into her petite souer's eyes; those eyes that she had never been able to resist. She stared into them, stared and stared and stared for all that she was worth, and, again, spoke.

"Dance with me, Yumi."

Yumi, equally compelled by that gaze of sapphire, those beautiful words and the way they were spoken- _"dance with me," _she could hear it in her mind, uttered warmly and softly, seductively _-_and her own desires (how similar the pair was, for all of their apparent differences!) obliged, placing her smaller (also trembling) hand into her onee sama's.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice not as even as the other girl's, even though she strove for it to be. "I- yes."

_Yes._

Sachiko rewarded her- that reply -with the barest hint of a smile.

Yumi, out of reflex, returned it.

And then- quite simply -they danced.

--

They did not dance well and they did not dance long, the red Roses. Yumi was too clumsy for the former and too weak for the latter. Sachiko sensed when the younger girl's body reached it's limits and she stopped after not too long, maneuvering Yumi and herself to the outside balcony for a breath of fresh air and a bit of privacy.

But it was compelling to watch nonetheless.

It was in Sachiko's grace- an unfailing thing, even in the face of Yumi's blunders and mumbled apologies -enchanting those who happened to witness it, and it was in Yumi's earnestness, shining forth from the smile that spread unconsciously across her face, tugging graciously on her lips as they radiated enthusiasm and a simple joy that was, in its entirety, completely contagious.

Separate they each were beautiful in their own right, but together... they were bewitching; a general consensus reached by all.

Yukki thought it at the sight of his sister's grin, grinning himself a little bit in the process, even if his heart was still a lead ball lodged deep in his chest where it would, perhaps, forever remain.

Youko thought it as she gazed at them from inside the arms of her dance partner, glad to see Sachiko looking as happy as she did as she and Yumi twirled (albeit clumsily) across the dance floor.

It had been a long time, the former rose felt, since any of them had been truly happy.

Too long.

Eriko could not attend (busy as she was with college) but surely she would be thinking it as well, if she were present. If she could look at the pair and see their awkward movements but the smiles they cast in spite of them, because of them, practically laughing in their silent, all too apparent joy.

Surely, she would agree.

Sei certainly was thinking it from the wall she leaned against as her gaze followed the two, arms crossed and her shit eating grin firmly in place, though her eyes were softer than her mischievous smile would usually suggest. Soft with pains of the past, of a certain a long haired girl she had once looked at the way Sachiko was looking at Yumi, deeply and lovingly, her care shining their for all to see. The similarity hit too close to home for the former Rosa Gigantea so she had to turn away after a moment, stuffing her hands in the pockets of the handsome suit she wore, wishing the dancing couple all the best there was in the damn world even if she recognized, all too well, the likelihood of how things would turn out in the end.

Still, she was undeniably thinking it as well.

Touko was, and Noriko beside her, and Shimako, her hand held by the former (loosely but firmly, gently but determinedly), thoughts preoccupied and following the same train tracks. All agreed that they were simply splendid, even if it hurt to look at them, their happiness, and imagine it fading away, as they were all too afraid it was bound to.

To imagine never looking at the two of them, together in this way, ever again.

Yet for now, they simply enjoyed the sight before them as best as they could.

Because a beautiful sight it was.

Yoshino and Rei were thinking it as they, too, danced, slowly and with more coordination, the older wearing a stoic expression that suggested tears were being fought back (she was, at heart, a crybaby) the younger simply smiling. Not as widely as Yumi nor with as much contentment as Sachiko, but quietly and humbly, thinking how damn good they looked together and how, no matter what else happened, she would remember this for the rest of her goddamned life; you could count on it.

There were others there who agreed. All there, perhaps it could ventured to be said, agreed. There was a charm to it, toward the pair that was so at odds yet so compatible, and when the two finished their dance there was applause for them, quiet but enthusiastic in nature. Even as the two made their exit (as inconspicuous as possible) their were smiles of gratitude and compliments sung their way.

In the end, that Hanadera dance was a dance that would be talked about for ages to come, Sachiko and Yumi a pair that would be talked about for ages to come, and to be able to witness the two combined on that warm spring night... Well, those present could count themselves lucky.

It was not a sight that would ever be seen again.


	20. Chapter 20

Confused-ish present, bringing you chapter 20.

There, that was painless, wasn't it?

Commenters, thank you, as always, for your encouraging comments. I appreciate it.

Chapter 20. Hope you like.

Proceed.

* * *

It was getting harder for Yumi to breathe.

Immensely hard.

She recognized this as a sign- the pain in her chest, the urge to cough –an end she never wanted to reach approaching all too swiftly. There had been other, obvious hints before- the fatigue and lack of appetite, her paleness and loss of weight, even the swelling of her feet (the doctor had described it to her in difficult terms- something about blood flow –but really she did not care to remember, simply acknowledging that this, too, was not good) but now she knew, as the pain increased, that the doctors were too optimistic, that she had been too optimistic.

She did not have two years.

She did not have, even, a single year.

For all she knew, she might only have tonight, and then it would be over.

Her dance, for all intents of purposes, would have ended.

As she followed her onee sama out onto the balcony, one hand pressing against her breast in what she could only hope was a discrete manner, the potential truth of this thought terrified her. She did not know, now that the dancing had ended, what was to happen. Did not know, with the stabs in her heart, piercing it, how much time, exactly, she had left. All she knew was that Sachiko's hand was in hers, soft and warm, and it was all she wanted to think about;

Sachiko. Her onee sama.

The girl she loved.

Everything else, she decided firmly, could wait.

Until it couldn't wait anymore.

--

When Sachiko let go of Yumi's hand, it physically hurt her. Her heart- raw and wounded due to events of her recent life that she could not control (a fact she loathed fully and deeply) -twisted in her chest as she turned to face her petite souer, her mouth incredibly dry.

It had been wonderful to dance with Yumi. To look her in the eye and hold her in her arms, to steady her as she began to trip and forget, just for a moment, the words that had previously been so unforgettable. That were, again, lodging themselves into her brain, repeating in a vicious cycle that she wished desperately to ignore but could not:

_"I'm dying."_

Over and over, echoing with a vicious brutality that Sachiko found deplorable and cruel and absolutely soul draining. She did not want to think of those words. She did not want to be reminded so bluntly of a future she had no desire to see come true, of this thing, this _monstrosity_, that threatened her very sanity.

She just wanted Yumi.

It was, she was slowly discovering, all she had ever wanted.

And denying it was painful.

Looking at the girl before her, this became increasingly apparent. The pain, her desire, how interwoven these two things were- she could hardly pretend that it- her love -did not exist. When she closed her eyes at night it was Yumi's face she saw. When her parents spoke of marriage it was her name that crossed her mind- not Suguru's.

It was Yumi she loved.

_You are beautiful, and I love you._

These things she wanted to say to Yumi. To whisper them into her ear, softly and sweetly, wrapping her in the gentlest of embraces and never letting her go. How desperately she wanted to do these things! So much so it caused her throat to ache once more in the manner it had been aching for the past several days, almost as though she had a nasty, persistent cold.

But as much as she wanted to act on these emotions, as much as she wanted to speak her mind and to hold Yumi and to keep on holding her; her mouth, unfortunately, seemed to have other plans.

"Why are you here?"

It broke the silence between them, these words- these cold, cold words. They interrupted, rudely, the quiet, enthralled atmosphere that had appeared between the two entranced figures, letting the tension at last filter in as it was bound to all along.

There was no way around it.

Yumi, for a moment, did not respond. Not verbally. It took her a second to actually voice an answer, wrapped in emotion as she was. Her face, however, fell- she could not help it, so expressive it was, as Sachiko's words were not happy ones, even if Yumi knew she deserved them -so she took a moment to gather herself before replying, her tone as even and measured as she could make it (which really wasn't very even at all).

"I came to see you."

It was true. Yumi spoke nothing but the truth.

She wanted to see Sachiko and so she came. She knew it would be difficult and she did not think she could stand it if Sachiko rejected her- not again and not more firmly -but she had to come anyway.

Because she needed to see her.

_Simple,_ Sachiko thought numbly, standing quite still and simply gazing at her petite souer after she had uttered those words. _So simple_.

How enviable, to speak with such simplicity and yet convey such depth! Even Sachiko (especially Sachiko) could not help but be moved by the sweetness of it.

"_I came to see you."_

She had to shake her head so as to avoid being dissuaded by it. By Yumi. Again, a false sense of righteous anger was so much easier, less hurtful, than opening her heart. Than replying (perhaps with a more desperate tone): _Oh Yumi, I came to see you too!_

And so Sachiko fought against it. Her hands- long, graceful things that they were -grabbed the silk fabric of her dress, bunching it as she pushed down these 'weaker' emotions. Bringing, as best as she could, an air of displeasure to the surface.

"You should not have come."

This, she did mean. Perhaps not in the cold way she delivered it (a sort of "_why did you even bother?" _perched on lips that seemed to be made out of ice for all the hard things they delivered) but she meant it when she said Yumi should not have come. The paleness of the other girl's face, the slightness of her frame (so much slighter than it once had been) had not escaped her notice. The darkness that was under her eyes instead of simply in them, the way she seemed to stand so delicately, as if a gust of wind would blow her over, the lightness in her very bones as Sachiko danced with her across the hardwood floor -these things caught the older girl's attention and could not escape from it.

And in this way Sachiko knew that for all of Yumi's natural prettiness, for all of that gentle charm and quiet resolve, she was ill. What had once been words had now manifested, to Sachiko's horror, into appearance, and the reality of it was killing her. Yumi needed to be at home, resting, not out at some asinine ball, playing so carelessly with her wellbeing! The very idea of it brought yet another stab to Sachiko's chest.

She almost felt like smiling at the bitterness of it. _How much more can I endure, _she thought idly, _before I simply break?_

Ogasawara Sachiko, reduced to a fragile school girl.

How terribly amusing.

_Wouldn't father and mother love to see what I've become? What she makes me?_

She could picture their lecturing voices in her mind, berating her for her foolishness, for falling in love with a girl, of all people, for succumbing to her emotions for _her, _but she pushed them away. They did not matter.

Only Yumi did.

Yumi was looking at her and again, she did not respond immediately. She seemed to be thinking, her frame almost unnaturally still as she peered at Sachiko, her gaze deep and intent. It unnerved the older girl. She wanted- _needed_ –her to respond. To get angry. To shout at her.

She deserved it.

She deserved bitterness and hatred and these other unforgiving things, after what she had done.

It was only fair that she should suffer as Yumi had.

_Get mad Yumi! _She inwardly goaded the girl, chin lifting defiantly even as her eyes- anguished, hurt things -swam with grief. _For god's sake, yell at me! Tell me it's my fault! No one has the right to speak to you this way- me least of all -and I will not let you stand there and take it!_

_Get angry with me!_

Yet Yumi did not. She simply continued to look at her onee sama in that unreadable way, gaze somehow undeniably sad, evidently torn but silent, and Sachiko didn't understand why she couldn't just get mad at her!

She was so distracted by her thoughts, full of guilt and other conflicting emotions, that when Yumi finally did speak, it almost came as a surprise to Sachiko; that she had spoken at all.

More shocking, however, were her words.

"I had to come, onee sama," she said quietly, her voice filled with conviction, of all things. A subdued but nonetheless apparant conviction that spoke of seriousness and devotion.

Something not to be taken lightly.

She shifted, just ever so slightly so that her lovely dress rippled, ruffling in an appealing way (though that had not been her intention) her eyes meeting Sachiko's gaze steadily before she added; "You were here."

And, just like that, Sachiko was the one temporarily without words. The one who was at a loss.

Yumi was very good- _too good, _Sachiko knew -at doing that to her.

This time, she had to work for her anger. Had to search for it desperately before she could even think of speaking with it.

Somehow, she managed. Despite her heart wavering toward Yumi (she did not know how to make it stop, how to tip the scales in her favor when they were predisposed toward Yumi's kindness and her warm breath and her wondrously innocent eyes) she managed, if only barely.

"You should not have come," she repeated. "You… You should not be here!" She licked her lips, eyes wide and nervous, and her hands, again, tightened on her dress.

Revealing her despair.

"Onee sama…"

This Yumi whispered, the voice behind her words slight as she gently interrupted, and again, Sachiko's persistence temporarily faltered. The words she had gathered on the tip of her tongue (ready to thrust and stab with if need be)- they simply fled. Why was it that every time Yumi opened her mouth this seemed to happen? Why did she have to say her title like that, with so much love and gentleness, her own small tongue caressing the word- _"onee sama"_ -so that it was almost reverent, the way she said it? Why did she have to be so… so…

Yumi-like?

Sachiko shook her head in a desperate attempt to clear it without much success. Instead, the emotions gathered inside her finally exploded and she lashed out, anger and hurt rising with a vengeance to the surface.

"You shouldn't have bothered!"

It came out a shout, her inner turmoil and hurt (and what a terrible hurt it was!) making her cry loud and anguished. She had contained too much, tried to keep a lid on so many emotions, that it simply failed her, her composure. Failed her miserably.

Her passion, again, was so much greater.

"This school event," she gritted out, words hot against her lips as though she could feel the fire in them, blistering her skin even as it blistered her heart, "it's not necessary!"

"Not for you!"

This last statement, above the others, seemed to ring into the silence. To tear it apart, brutally and forcefully, effectively stunning them both.

Because there was truth to it. Because there was a good chance that she, Yumi, would be dead by the time graduation came. Because forcing herself to attend classes and to walk around only made her weaker. Because going to something like a dance really wasn't good for her health in the long run- if she even had a long run left. This was something both Sachiko and Yumi were all too aware of.

Yumi was sick, and she was not getting any better.

Would never get better, whether Sachiko wanted to acknowledge it or not.

So of course, to speak of it was a low blow. The lowest. Even Sachiko knew that the moment it slipped out of her mouth, the harshness of her statement echoing in her ears so largely and profoundly that regret immediately pierced her, deep in her gut, increasing her self-hatred with a gusto. Oh, what a terrible, terrible person she was! Why didn't God strike her down right now for the blasphemous things she said? Why was she allowed to continuously crush herself and the one she loved?

To hurt them both?

Yet Yumi did not seem to be in such torment. She did not seem to loathe Sachiko as much as the Ogasawara loathed herself, and she certainly wasn't making a point to hurt her. For in response to her onee sama's harsh words she simply smiled (it took a moment for her to find it but she did)- again, that purposely comforting smile that Sachiko was growing all too familiar with, one traced with a hint of sadness that only served to make the older girl feel even worse (she would have preferred the anger, the outrage)–and looked, for a moment, to the window and the dancers housed inside.

Some part of her- a not so small part -quietly envied them.

"I suppose that's true," she murmured softly in reply to her onee sama's outburst, her tone almost conversational- as though they were discussing something as mundane as homework- not her imminent death. "After all, there's a good chance I won't last until graduation. "

Again, the urge to cough rose up in her (which she barely repressed)- accompanied by that all too familiar lance of pain -and she silently amended the statement.

_That I won't last the night._

Sachiko, though not privy to this last thought, winced (taking, without thought, a sharp breath in response to those hideous words- _no Yumi, oh god no!-_) but Yumi, having turned away, did not notice. Lost, it seemed, in her own world, she gently brought her fingers up to the cool glass of the window pane, resting them there against the surface, her eyes dark and distant.

_How pretty, _she thought, noting the colors, the bold flashes mixed with soft hues, the soft music that trailed through the open door and reached her ears, caressing them.

She almost smiled.

_But not as pretty as onee sama._

Sachiko- overcome with remorse –made as if to move over to her (wanting, somehow, to help her, wishing quite desperately in that moment that she could turn back time and fix what she had said- fix everything, really) but she was stopped by the younger girl, who spoke once more, continuing her train of thought.

"But… I find a comfort in it. These silly, unnecessary school events."

Her smile did appear then but it was crooked, one corner stretching up slightly more than the other, so that it was lopsided, her smile. Lopsided, just like her heart.

It was sad. Enchanting, but oh so sad.

Sachiko could hardly bear to look at it.

The sound of Yumi speaking once more shook her from her revere.

"I suppose the repetition of it all makes me feel… Better?"

It came out as more of a question, and she chuckled, the sound quiet.

And, to Sachiko's ears, sad. Horribly sad.

It was almost painful to listen to her continue.

"I don't know. It's stupid onee sama- even I know that -but its what I've been doing for these past two years. Being with everyone, discussing things about the school, drinking the tea Noriko and Touko make…"

Suddenly she stopped her hand, which had been idly tracing invisible designs on the windowpane and turned, slowly, back to Sachiko.

"And being with you, onee sama. They… _you_, are what matter in my life."

Her smile faltered and a deep sadness entered her eyes- one that took Sachiko's breath away.

It was a sadness she recognized as her own.

"It's all I have left."

Yumi's eyes, now quietly leaking tears, were dark with emotion, though she kept them fastened on Sachiko as though unable to look away.

Not even wanting to.

"Can you blame me, then," she said at last, her voice incredibly thin as it practically choked on the words that slipped out of her mouth, haphazardly and not without a hint of trepidation, "for not being able to let go?"

She took a deep, shaky breath and what was left of her smile simply broke as she let out a quiet sob. As she spoke words that, once more, seemed determined to crush Sachiko.

To absolutely tear her apart.

"Can you blame me," she whispered morosely, "for wanting to say goodbye?"

And there it was; the truth. The horrible, gut wrenching, goddamned truth, again laid out in the open for both Roses to witness.

Even if it killed them both to hear it.


	21. Chapter 21

Hi, Confused-ish here, as is per usual.

Hope you all are well.

Commenters; once more, I thank you for the comments. All of them are, as always, an encouragement, and most definitely appreciated.

Thanks again.

Keeping my rambling short and sweet, like the next chapter- sort of. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 21:

* * *

Yumi collapsed.

It had taken all of her energy, what little strength she had left, to say those words- her honest to goodness, true feelings -and now, she simply didn't have the strength to stand anymore. It had, at long last, been used up, and even though the young Rose could certainly use it now- her body's endurance -it failed her.

She knew this was to happen eventually (one way or another) and so it did not come as a surprise.

It was unwelcome, but not a surprise.

Her eyes closed (fluttering shut almost as soon as the words had slipped past her lips) her legs- weak and shaking from the strained effort of keeping herself upright -gave out, and she began her long descent to the cold floor of the balcony. Mentally she braced herself for the impact because she knew she was not physically capable of doing so (didn't even have the energy to cry out, really) aware that it was going to hurt but strangely not caring due to her all encompassing lethargy. And, even if she had cared, she was helpless to stop herself anyway.

It was inevitable.

But the crash never came. There was no painful thud, the air wasn't knocked brutally from lungs that had, over the last few weeks, grown unbearably fragile, and she did not have to deal with yet another ache in her already exhausted, spent body.

Because Sachiko caught her.

And that made all of the difference in the world.

--

Sachiko had endured many things. Her parents and their rigid, inflexible demands. Her adulterous father and grandfather and the issues with the opposite sex they- however inadvertently -placed upon her. Being a rose, the work that entailed, and a school full of worshiping girls and the unfair expectations that, naturally, came with them. Even the death of her grandmother. Most recently, she had been forced to bare the knowledge that she was being forced into a loveless marriage with a cousin she could no longer stand to look at because of that god awful (and other, heart flipping) confessions Yumi had made.

She had endured these things- sometimes poorly, sometimes inelegantly -but she had done her best to cope with them in the only way she knew how, simply because it was expected of her. She had her pride and she had her stubbornness and if she faltered in some areas then she could at least fall back on these ones to carry her forward, however tentatively.

But now, she discovered, there were some things she simply could not resist, no matter how hard she tried.

Like brown eyes and the tears that were shed from them.

They did something to the young Ogasawara that nothing else could and, despite her intentions (her willful ability to bury herself in sheer denial) she was helpless against them.

There was that voice too- that deathly quiet, shaky voice -and the earnestness with which it spoke- _always so earnest, Yumi_ -that played easily (so easily it would have been laughable were it no so excruciatingly painful) with her emotions.

But what did her in, above all else, were the words she uttered.

As always, they were honest- too honest -and Sachiko could not, in the end, resist them- even though she tried. God knows, how she tried! In the end they were simply too much, and she failed.

Failed miserably.

--

_"Onee sama..."_

_"Can you blame me, for not wanting to let go?"_

_"... For wanting to say goodbye?"_

_--_

Goodbye...

Oh, how easily it was that Sachiko's heart- that aching, desolate_ thing _that somehow beat in her bruised_ (_hurting, pounding,_ guilty) _chest -quite simply...

Broke.

The words that reached her ears- tumbling out one after another, slipping tremulously from her petite souer's pale, faintly shaking lips -they were the last straw for Sachiko. Her frigidity, that familiar facade of terrible coldness- the dark, lonely shield that she wielded daily as her single defense against a world she could not bring herself to trust -she simply couldn't retain it. Not when Yumi was looking at her as she was looking at her now- openly, soul bared for the world to see -not when she was saying such things, (such sincere, sorrowful things!) and certainly not when her own heart was splintering with that horrible sense of complete and utter _guilt_, ripping to shreds what little remained of the shattered object that was her chest.

In that moment something inside of the young Ogasawara screamed "t_o hell with composure!_" and, under the enormous pressure, broke.

With a cry she could no longer swallow- a sob, really -(one that sounded suspiciously like her petite souer's name) Sachiko closed the gap between the two of them, seizing the other girl even as she began to fall (never would Sachiko let her fall- now or ever) wordlessly pulling her into a fierce embrace. Her gesture (the conviction of her grip) was absent of even the faintest allusions at hesitation. She no longer had the patience for it. Not when Yumi was here, alive crying breathing- _dying -_in front of her.

Despite belief to the contrary (mostly her own) Sachiko was not heartless. Far from it.

She just felt too damn much.

Yumi, unprepared for the movement (how could she _not_ be, with the curve balls her grand souer was constantly throwing her?) snapped her eyes open at the first contact, her knees buckling further as she was yanked against her onee sama, the exhaustion of the long night having already taken its toll on her so that she did not even attempt to maintain her balance.

Sachiko, instantly recognizing this (uncannily so, one might think) simply sank to the floor with her, refusing to let go as she did (she would never let go of her again, she silently vowed) their legs angling to the side as their bodies slid down, still forcefully pressed against one another.

Yumi, bewildered and emotionally drained, confused and physically lacking in endurance, simply clung to the warmth that was her onee sama, not sure what was going on but appreciating, nonetheless, the feeling of the older girl against her skin.

It was, after all, a good feeling.

The best.

_Onee sama smells nice, _she thought tiredly, her mind's pace a bit on the sluggish side as she slowly allowed herself to relax into the hold, scrunching instinctively closer to the arms wrapped around her. _Like flowers and sunshine._

Inwardly, she sighed her contentment.

_I've missed this._

Sachiko, panting slightly at her audacity (she could not believe she had finally, at last, found the courage to do _something) _had to pause to take a couple of deep breaths, struggling to reign in her crazily beating heart along with her ramped thought process, which she had unleashed in her emotional excitement, attempting to get her brain in order when Yumi had effectively managed to scramble it.

Her petite souer, slumped against her, remained silent as she did this, patiently waiting in what could only be described as gentle understanding (she had become, if nothing else these past few weeks, extremely understanding) and eventually, the older girl, after collecting herself, was the first to speak.

"Yumi…"

She practically breathed the name, pressing her face against the other girl's neck as she did, needing, somehow, to be closer to her- to feel Yumi against her skin, the flush of her cheeks, Yumi's smallness pressed against her body. In accordance with these desires she pulled her souer as near to her as was physically possible, in awe of the absolute _rightness _of it, and continued, her voice hoarse. "Forgive me."

Desperately she clutched the other girl to her, her hold tight and loving, her body and throat and the voice that issued from it trembling, even as bright tears shimmered in her eyes, blurring them. "Oh god Yumi, forgive me!" she whispered, voice cracking with raw anguish over the horrors of her past transgressions, inwardly berating herself for them, for being such an idiot when what mattered was right here, in her arms and- god, how could she have been so _blind?_

She swallowed, the gesture pained, and continued, her voice thin and lost- like that of a guilty child -pleading for a chance to explain, even if there were no explanations, even if it was all her fault- but she could not loose Yumi, could not bare the thought of it, and so she spoke anyway, desperately and lowly and sincerely.

"I abandoned you when you needed me and... I'm sorry- oh god, I'm so, so sorry -but I love you Yumi! I- I love you so much, and I-!"

But Yumi did not hear what else she said. It was those last words that really sunk in- the ones that mattered -for it was the first time Sachiko had admitted out loud to the feelings that had been inside her for so long (her stubborn pride keeping her silent, her fear) and Yumi, for a moment, was so overcome with the joy she felt (a burning, glorious warmth, as if she were made out of liquid sunlight) spreading throughout her entire body, that she could not speak, allowing Sachiko to ramble on, those words embedded firmly in her mind, lightening it.

_"I love you, Yumi."_

It was all Yumi needed- all she had ever needed -the knowledge that her onee sama loved her. It made everything okay, somehow- even if she was dying and having to say goodbye to the ones she loved and all of those other painful things-

_Onee sama loves me!_-

-Somehow, now, with the end so near, it was enough.

Which was why when Yumi, after she had gotten over her initial shock (and the temporary, insanely happy stupor that came with it) interrupted her, a wide grin gracing her suddenly bright face, halting, due to it's warmth, Sachiko's stuttered, faltering words as they rolled awkwardly off of her tongue, stilling them as she felt the smile against her skin.

For, surely, there was nothing quite as magical as her petite souer's smile, Sachiko thought, falling into a quiet hush as Yumi spoke, because though they were not loud or demanding, the words she uttered somehow commanded the older girl's attention.

Would always command her attention.

"It's not your fault onee sama."

She stated this in the same soft manner she had been using the entire night thus far, the evidence that she too had been crying apparent in her voice, slightly scratchy from the tears she had made no attempt to hold back and the physical pain that was growing inside her- despite how much she pushed against it. It was there- undeniably -quietly building, clawing at her insides savagely even as she stared up at her onee sama, smiling and full of love.

So, ignoring it once more (she too could be stubborn) she brought her mouth a little closer so that it was near her onee sama's ear- warm breath sending shivers through the older girl's body -as she repeated it in a whisper. "It's not your fault at all."

_You love me onee sama, and I love you._

_What fault is there in that?_

It was this giddiness that kept her smiling, even in the face of her onee sama's guilt- which Yumi did not think she deserved, not in the slightest -not when they were both feeling the same things -and in the face of her pain. Because she was happy, really and truly, and the pain, the knowledge of what this meant, could sit on the back burner for the moment.

Yumi would make it do so.

"Yumi..."

Sachiko's beautiful voice still sounded torn- incredibly so -and Yumi knew it would be a long time before the older girl forgave herself. Still, she did her best to remedy it now- while she was still around to be able to do so, because she could not stand to see her sad. Could not stand to see anyone sad, but her least of all.

The girl she loved.

"I love you too, onee sama," she whispered, tone firm despite it's faintness (for she could not quite catch her breath and she was, immeasurably, weaker, even if it was unwelcome and she could do nothing to stop it). "That's all that matters. For now... that's all I want to think about. Okay?"

Sachiko hesitated (there were so many things to consider- the future, Yumi's well being, the fact that the girl had just collapsed into her arms) but in the end, what choice did she have? If Yumi asked anything of her, she would do it- partly because of what a complete idiot she'd been and her need to now make up for it, but mostly because her love was that great.

She had decided that she would go to the ends of the earth, if it would make Yumi happy.

Yumi happy was all she wanted.

All she needed, really.

So she would do her best to make it happen- even if it was painful or difficult or so damn hard it made her want to break down into sobs.

She owed her that much, at least.

"Okay," she finally replied, quietly, voice soft and her own smile reassuring as she settled Yumi more comfortably in her arms, reaching down to tuck a strand of hair behind her petite souer's ear. Her fingers lingered on the outer shell of her ear, tracing down to lightly caress the lobe, before she pulled away, almost reluctantly. "Whatever you wish." She took a small breath and placed a kiss upon her forehead- gentle in nature -and her lips curved up a bit more at the corners. "My Yumi."

Yumi blushed at the endearment- _"My Yumi" -_(as well as the feeling of Sachiko's cool lips pressed against her skin) and had to wait to get her breath back before replying. "Good."

She rested her head once more upon Sachiko's chest, comforted by her nearness, and Sachiko took the opportunity to play with her hair, gently running her fingers through it as Yumi settled against her. They fell silent for a moment, Yumi closing her eyes in pleasure at the feeling of Sachiko's skillful touch, instinctively turning into it as though she were a cat, silently showing her approval in this way. Then, she mumbled, once more, the quiet declaration she seemed to have grown so fond of repeating.

"I love you, onee sama."

The older girl's smile, already content in nature, widened in response, as she allowed her hand to fall still and simply rest against her petite souer's silky mane. "Good," she whispered, playfully echoing the other girl. She leaned down closer.

"Because I love you too."

She rested her chin against the top of her petite souer's head and for awhile they both fell into silence, grateful to have reached an understanding. Grateful to have the time they had now.

They did not know how long it would last.

Soft music reached their ears as if from a great distance, floating around the cool air of the balcony, waltzing gracefully and slowly through the stillness, bringing with it a certain tranquility that both Roses could, in their current contentment, appreciate. And though they were aware, in some distant part of their minds, that there was, indeed, a dance going on, it was quite easy to forget about any other presence save their own, that of the silver moon as it hung in the dark sky, and the tiny pinpricks of the stars that indicated night had fallen. In that moment it was just them, Sachiko and Yumi, an onee sama and her souer, basking in the warmth that was their love, each smiling quietly, content for their time together and their agreement to put aside the difficult things that had plagued them and plagued them desperately. They simply stared at the sky, and listened to the music- their breath -felt the warm, pulsating glow of the other's skin and whispered silent _"I love you's" _that no longer needed to be spoken. The feeling, confirmed, was mutual. And it sustained them. Even in the silence, in the quiet, they were at peace.

Until Yumi, despite her best efforts, let out a wet cough.

The red marred the beauty of her pale dress and was, in many ways, the first step to the end.

The end of everything.


	22. Chapter 22

Hi. Confused-ish. Please don't maul me, even if I deserve it.

I had a lot, and I mean a _lot_, on my plate. All the way from a lingering, downright annoying/scary illness to the near death of my uncle via car crash, to my mother getting re-married, and even to the horror that is college finals and the fear of failing one of them- all of which have kept me pretty busy. There were the holidays, power outages, friends' crisis, _internet _crisis, and a few other things that kept me busy. Still, I'm sorry for making all of you wait. I can only offer my sincerest apologies. It can be an unpleasant thing, waiting, and I seem to have made you all do that quite a bit.

Again, my apologies.

As always, thanks for the faithful reviews. They feed on my guilt (naturally) but in doing so prompt me to continue. Can't leave you all hanging now can I?

Sadness continues, grows. Story continues, with the end in sight.

Chapter 22: "Can I kiss you, onee sama?"

* * *

_"To love is to receive a glimpse of heaven."_

-Karen Sunde

* * *

She saw their faces as if from a great distance, elusive and out of her reach. They swam in and out of focus like words on the page of a book, made hazy by bleary, sleep deprived eyes as they strained to discern the nearly indiscernible. But sleepy was an inadequate word, not fit in the least to define the state in which Yumi found herself slumped against the cold floor, blinking at the blurred faces and chaotic shouts that reached her small ears, a humdrum she couldn't keep up with and, in discovering so, shut out instead. Sleepy did not cover the pain in her chest, so much more acute than before (beating,pushing, stabbing at her insides) nor did it explain the bloodied spot on her dress, marring the fine fabric with its dark, ominous presence. It did not describe the detached, vaguely surprised mood in which she found herself as she mentally took inventory of her person, noting with some surprise the metal taste that hovered on her tongue, slimy against her teeth, and clinging to the back of her throat, which burned as she coughed yet again, another dart of pain making her world sway.

The sense of surrealism continued as blood, again, blotted her vision, appearing on her soft palm so that she marveled at how it had gotten there, unable to fully comprehend that it had somehow, impossibly, flown past her lips, had come up from her lungs, which hurt and continued to hurt as she attempted to breathe, duly noting that the noise was wet and heavy and wrong.

And it came from her.

"Yumi!"

This voice, above the others, reached the young girl. Against all odds, against the swirling in her brain and the pounding in her chest and the chills that wracked her body, it somehow reached Yumi's ears. The urgency was adamant in its demand for attention, the desperation in the cry clearly announced, and she managed to focus her gaze enough to see what the sound of her name being yelled had already informed her of; Sachiko.

At the sight of the older girl, she smiled in reflex.

"Onee sama," she said, surprised even as she was not, because even though she was confused by the turn of events and in pain there was a rightness to having Sachiko there that she did not question, would not dream of questioning, and so it was only natural that she was smiling, wasn't it? Because her onee sama was here and she could be happy with that at the very least, even if everything else was muddled and untouchable and she couldn't seem to understand it, and had, deep down, the vague sense that something was horribly amiss.

Again, her name was repeated. This time, however, there was a bit of relief evident in the tone- an implied _thank god_ -for Sachiko was glad of a response at all that did not involve a blank, terror inducing look, even if the older girl's eyes were still wide and incredibly fearful. "Hang on Yumi, the ambulance is on its way! Please, just hang on!"

_Hang on._

The younger girl's mind was temporarily enraptured with those words.

_What a weird phrase,_ she thought, frowning slightly. _Hang on_. At first, she didn't understand that either (what, for goodness sake's, was she supposed to hang on to?) but when it occurred to her that Sachiko was telling her to stay alive- and it took her several moments to comprehend this -she blinked and looked at her hands.

They were small, she decided. Small, weak things, each lying limp at her sides, palm up, as though offering some prayer to the heavens. Mentally she frowned, discouraged by the lack of strength she saw there, but she was too tired to move them and did not know, really, what it would accomplish- moving them -when they were as weak as they were and lifeless and completely incapable of saving anyone, least of all herself.

She doubted, with these frail, darkly stained hands, that she had the strength to hang onto anything, let alone her life.

She wanted to explain this to Sachiko. She wanted to take the time and make her understand, fully, that she wanted to do what her onee sama asked. She always had a soft spot when it came to pleasing the older girl, an earnestness, but she felt, in this instance, that she couldn't. She simply didn't have the energy to sort her thoughts, tangled as they were, nor the willpower to enunciate things clearly when her jaw felt heavy and her eyelids too.

It was a wonder they were still open.

She could feel it seeping from her even now, her strength; a slow, loathsome process that left her light bones suddenly lethargic and her limbs more weighted than wet sand. She could barely curl her bloodied fingers in a gesture of hanging on because they were spent, broken things, just like the rest of her.

But she couldn't say all of that. She couldn't look into those ocean eyes, those sapphire eyes, those pretty, beautiful things, and face the desperation she was sure was on her onee sama's face, and then proclaim to her- her love, her life, the very reason for her existence it often seemed -such terrible things, even if they were true. She could not say goodbye to her when Sachiko was clinging onto her shoulders almost painfully tight, her fear of losing the one held in her grasp apparent in the way her lips trembled and her body shook with its all encompassing terror, knuckles as white as her pale, stunning face.

So, in an act of mercy (though she, selfless as she was, did not see it that way) Yumi did not speak of regretful truths. She did not whisper her goodbyes, nor confess that the pain in her aching body was simply too great to dismiss, that she could practically hear death approaching in its calm, measured steps, ready to swoop in and carry her away at a moment's notice.

Her lips simply repeated the gesture of her contented smile, compassion radiating from a gaze soft with acceptance and love as she stared gently into panicked sapphire with the intent of soothing it.

"I will," she promised, smiling. Fingers on one hand twitched before rising (how much effort it took to do so, a ridiculous amount!) as she touched the unmarred skin of her onee sama's face, attempting, in this quiet, humble way of hers (the only way she knew, really) to appease the older girl.

And then she coughed again, and her fingers, once more, fell to the cold ground.

--

Sachiko had never known such agony.

Her petite souer, cradled in her arms, bird-like in her fragile, all too breakable state, caused the beating heart in the older girl's chest to be torn and torn again.

She hated God in that moment. Hated this thing that held her petite souer in its cruel grasp and refused to let go.

She hated not being able to do anything to stop it.

"It's going to be okay Yumi," she murmured, doing her best to shove aside such thoughts. She stroked Yumi's face instead, knowing, through the contact, that she was attempting to reassure herself as much, if not more so, than the girl below her. "They'll be here soon."

She hoped so. Oh god, she could not bare the thought of it being otherwise.

Of them not making it in time.

She wanted to be comforted by the smile Yumi gave her then, so utterly soft in its gentleness, but her mouth was dry and her hands shook _and it hurt so goddamn much. _Dread twisted apprehensively in the pit of her stomach, snaking through her intestines viciously, and the sorrow that accompanied it was so much more than she could bare.

_Please, let Yumi be okay._

She bit her lip as the girl in question let out a weak cough, more flecks of blood staining her lip.

Sachiko hated what it meant, what it stood for; Yumi being unwell, Yumi being hurt, Yumi in pain.

Still, she used one shaky thumb to wipe the traces of blood away, tenderly dabbing at Yumi's bone white flesh. Her trembling fingers made the task harder and all really she succeeded in doing was smearing the dark red. Still, Yumi thanked her, gratitude evident in her loving tone.

And, again, Sachiko felt her heart break.

_Please Maria sama, save her, _she implored silently, brushing Yumi's limp hair from her warm forehead and briefly closing her eyes. When she opened them again they blazed with fervent desperation. _I will become a better person, I will spend the rest of my life devoted to you, I will do anything you say! Please, just please save Yumi._

_That's all I ask._

--

There were lights flashing and people yelling but they came from a great distance. Yumi thought she saw Sei for a moment, and Rei holding Yoshino, but maybe it was just her imagination. The mind was funny like that. Through it all Sachiko remained, her dark hair a curtain protecting them, her deep gaze begging for something. Yumi didn't know what it was.

_What is it onee sama? What do you want? I will give you anything you ask for. I love you._

But then her eyes rested briefly for a moment and the vague thought trailed away, vanishing like dust in the wind.

--

Sachiko thought she heard Yokou say something, and Sei too, but even when the ambulance announced its presence in a flash of red and blue she kept her eyes trained on her petite souer, who's gaze, to her relief, opened once more, brown eyes blinking in disorientation. Then, as always, she smiled.

Sachiko tried to return the gesture, but the pain in her chest wouldn't let her, and she failed halfway.

--

"Onee sama, can I kiss you?"

She asked it in a moment of spontaneity as she stared into those blue eyes, lost in their depths. She was hot and then cold, body simultaneously wracked with fever and chills, and her heart hurt and her lungs hurt and it felt like everything hurt, really. But there was her onee sama above her, and her eyes, and those lips, and the question had just bubbled up to the surface before she had the time to think of it, hanging in the space between them, unquestionably strange but somehow right too.

Yumi was aware, then, of someone sobbing. It sounded, oddly enough, like Shimako. But why would she be crying? Surely this was a happy moment, Yumi thought, being able to be here with Sachiko, to ask her such things, to possibly receive them.

It was then that she realized Sachiko was crying too.

She did so silently, tearing slipping wordlessly down her flawless cheeks, and though she couldn't comprehend what was going on, why there were so many other people at the fringes of her vision sobbing and looking on with such faces, Yumi found her own tired eyes to be dry.

Why were they crying?

Why wasn't she?

"Yes," the older girl choked out , her voice, raw with sheer agony, interrupting Yumi's bewildered thoughts. Her onee sama swallowed, the gesture appearing almost painful. "Yumi... if you wanted, I would kiss you a thousand times over."

And then, before the younger girl had time to reply- _just once is enough, onee sama _-she leaned forward and pressed her full lips against her petite souer's slightly bloody ones.

--

She was heaven, she was earth, she was the combination of the two.

And for a moment, the world stopped.

The kiss tasted vaguely salty, from her tears, Sachiko thought. A bit like copper too. She knew why though, and pushed the realization away. Instead she focused on her petite souer's mouth, on how gentle it was, her lips soft, like flower petals. It was beautiful, it was indescribable, it was bitter sweet but mostly the latter because this was Yumi she was kissing and it was always how she imagined it and so much more. Vivid sunrises rose behind her closed eyelids, viewed alongside her petite souer, their fingers interlaced. She imagined, in that quiet moment, rainy days and warm tea, sitting in a certain student council room, watching through her hair as her petite souer cleaned, humming to herself all the while. She recalled flamboyant facial expressions and bouncing pigtails and a crooked tie that she had straightened more times than she could count, scolding a young girl as she did but secretly warmed by the close contact it brought between them. The memories, long and many, made her smile into the kiss and she could feel Yumi smiling too, the most beautiful smile Sachiko had ever felt because she knew it was meant for her.

It lasted but a moment yet seemed both longer and shorter, as if a lifetime had been pressed into an instant- but a lifetime that had ended all too quickly. This kiss ended with reluctance, heads pulling back and lips parting, but their eyes opened and remained on each other, full of things that could never be explained.

This time, Sachiko beat her souer to the punch.

"I love you Yumi. You are my everything."

Her breathing was ragged, and tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision, but she meant it. Never had she meant anything more.

The sorrow and joy pulled, equally tormenting and uplifting, on her at Yumi's whispered reply.

"Onee sama, _you _are my everything. I love you... now and always."

The sweet moment ended with Yumi's eyelids slowly fluttering closed, her head lolling to the side, and Sachiko grasping her limp body, crying and praying and wishing harder than she ever had before.

For she knew Yumi's fate, as incredibly heart wrenching as it was, was out of her hands.

It was up to Maria sama now.


	23. Chapter 23

Hello. It looks like the end is near. *sighs deeply* I'm going to miss it...

Anyway, let's get this show on the road.

Things are getting depressing, and its... kind of depressing to write. Really, the end is approaching quite rapidly, and while I'll be glad to finally accomplish finishing such a long piece (at least, for me) it will be sad to see it go. I put a lot of work into it, and its become important to me, even if it is somewhat amateur-ish and melodramatic (as it was bound to be with the premise). Still, its been a hell of a journey, and with the next few chapters winding it up, I find myself reminiscing.

So dramatic, I know.

Anyway, this is yet another step to the end. I just wanted to thank you all, again, for your reviews, patience, and general willingness to keep reading my story, even though its taken a long while... With the end near, but not quite here, I wanted to say thanks for ya'll reading what I'm writing. Receiving comments gives one a good feeling, knowing their story, to one extent or another, is being appreciated.

Well, here is chapter 23. Its short-ish, kind of a prelude chapter to the finale if you will, but I still hope you like it.

Chapter 23: Coping... Or Lack Thereof

* * *

_"Sorrow you can hold, however desolating, if nobody speaks to you. If they speak, you break down."_

-Bede Jarrett

* * *

They slipped her into her newly assigned hospital bed with the knowledge that she would die.

They tucked her under the crisp white sheets, blotted the blood from her lips, slid the IV into the delicate vein on the back of her pale, sweaty hand, and fluffed her pillow before they laid her head upon it, knowing it was all but pointless.

Fukuzawa Yumi was going to die, and she was going to die soon. It was simply a matter of when- a when that was rapidly approaching.

There was no avoiding it.

The doctor announced this devastating news in a hushed, sorrowful tone, the eyes he hid behind his round-rimmed spectacles full of regret. His voice was laced with it when he spoke, his old, weathered hands held almost beseechingly in front of him, appealing to some higher power in his helplessness; demonstrating, in this quiet, heartfelt way, an apology of the most sincere form.

Yet it did not matter to the yamayurikai that he was sorry. It did not matter to Yumi's family, who had arrived as soon as they had heard of their loved one's collapse and stood before the useless professional as if in a trance; a stunned Mr. Fukuzawa holding his sobbing wife in numb paralysis, Yuuki stoically mute beside him as he stared ahead at nothing, a pained expression gracing his handsome, tear-stained face.

It did not matter to Touko, who had slid to her knees in a state of total disbelief as soon as the cruel words slipped past the doctor's lips, remaining this way as others spoke in outrage and despair. Tears fell wordlessly from her down turned gaze, thin shoulders shaking in quiet grief, and to her limp, nearly boneless body, the doctor's concern was irrelevant.

It would not save her onee sama.

Nothing would.

It did not matter to Sei, who, at the solemn proclamation, whirled around and slammed her fist into the hospital wall with a harsh crack, a loud cry of _"bullshit!" _escaping from her twisted mouth, her stunning features tight with rage and utter helplessness, beautifully bright eyes, in that moment, incredibly dark.

It did not matter how _sorry _he was, this stranger, because her own sorrow was so much greater, crushing her heart and throat and her aching, horribly despondent chest with thoughts of her Yumi chan, and those innocent giggles, and _oh god she's going to die._

No, it did not matter.

Not at all.

It did not matter to the still weeping Shimako, who could not seem to stop her anguished, shoulder-heaving sobs, pitiful cries escaping from her pretty tongue in soul-sucking gasps- nor to her own frozen petite souer, who stroked her onee sama's hair as if in a daze, delicate features drawn and impossibly haggard for one so young.

Neither of them could bring themselves to care about the man's- _this stranger's _-regret.

Not when they could feel themselves drowning in their own, no end or relief in sight.

It did not matter to Rei, whose own face was ashen, her usually steady hands- callused from hard work and unwavering diligence -trembling uncontrollably as they griped Yoshino's shoulders, so hard her knuckles were bone white and the skin over them stretched taunt.

It did not matter to her, nor to the younger girl she held, who whispered fervent, inaudible words of denial, her head shaking in slow, unwavering disapproval as the world she viewed suddenly turned hazy to her burning gaze. Questions of _why god, why? _slipped from her mouth between prayers and desolate pleas, fumbling on her clumsy, bloodless lips, her body and mind in terrible shock and total rejection of the things she had heard.

The professional's apologies- they did not matter in the slightest. Certainly not to Ogasawara Sachiko, who's world swayed and cracked and broke apart with this revelation as she stood, for a moment, stock still in the narrow hospital hallway, her beliefs and the foundations of them crumbling so quickly, so utterly, that it was hard to believe they had ever been there in the first place. It left her with nothing but desolation for company, stripping her of the last amount of strength she had been holding onto, Yumi's blood, already dried and uncomfortably heavy on her hands and the beautiful dress she still wore, flashing through her black, petrified mind.

_"I'm sorry, but there is nothing we can do."_

His words, to put it simply, killed her.

Her eyes were impossibly anguished and haunted to the point where it was purely heartbreaking to look at them as she, like Touko, sank to the cold tiled floor of hospital hallway, manners and strict decorum forgotten as a piercing wail escaped her raw, bleeding throat, reverberating tortuously from the pristine walls and echoing in the ears of the present with horrible clarity.

It was a cry of the most agonizing sorrow, keening and so full of loss that Shimako's sobs grew louder and Touko's tears faster and Sei drove her fist into the wall yet again, knuckles bloodied as she yelled at the young Ogasawara- _no, her broken friend _-to shut up, to shut the hell up, because it was heart wrenching and twisted and oh god completely impossible to listen to-

-and Youko found she couldn't, she just couldn't, and she had to forcibly stop herself from clapping her hands over her ears as she turned away for a moment- _just for composure, _she tried to reassure herself -a pulsating lump of bitterness lodging itself in her throat, which ached as though she had swallowed a thousand, piercing shards of glass. The pain threatened to overwhelm her as a long shudder ran through her elegant body, causing her to raise a hand to her weary gaze.

She had failed, she decided in that moment, listening as Sachiko's cry of despair lowered in volume but not in sorrow, relentlessly digging into her onee sama's heart, over and over again, causing the budding lawyer-to-be's fingers to shake terribly and the rest of her too. God had failed, Maria sama had failed, the world had failed. She could not decide which she hated more, which hurt more. The point was that they all hurt, that it simply hurt in general, and she couldn't stand it. Not her petite souer's cries, not the sorrow that plagued them, and certainly not that knowledge that Yumi was-

A sob, then, escaped from her throat, and she found herself leaning against the hospital wall, now marked with Sei's blood, and her petite souer's cries, and the despair of them all, cursing anything and everything in her head, her eyes still covered even as tears swam behind them.

It wasn't fair. Why them? Why her?

_Why?_

It did not matter to anyone present that Dr. Tanaka was genuinely sorry about Yumi's fate, or that he wished he could do more to help, feeling useless and something akin to guilt as he stood before their overbearing grief, hating, in that moment, his chosen profession, his inability to save them all. The truth, they all knew, was that he couldn't. There was no fixing Yumi, broken as she was, and this was the fact that struck them and struck them hard.

Yumi, _their Yumi_, was going to die, a fact the doctor had just made all too apparent.

And there was nothing they could do.


	24. Chapter 24

Short chapter. Again, wrapping things up.

Next is the final one, and I will post it within the next day or two.

Thanks to everyone for reading, and for the comments. I appreciate them, as always, and am glad for the support. A little bit goes a long way, and what you give is more than a little...

Just want to let you know that I'm grateful for it.

Chapter 24: The Love Around Us

* * *

_"Death ends a life, not a relationship."_

-Robert Benchley

* * *

Tiny. She was so tiny.

_So breakable._

It hurt Sachiko's heart to think of it- _her _-to look at that near nonexistent mass on the bed- _broken, unhealthy, dying -_her Yumi. To watch the object of her affections- _yes Yumi, you are_ -take such shallow breaths- _too shallow _-wondering if each was her last- _how many do you have left, Yumi?_ -if the life would leave from her like that, simply slip from her parted lips, like a sigh or gasp or-

_blood_

-and it just _hurt._

So much.

Yumi had always been small. She was short and slender with the kind of build one associated with words like petite and small-boned. _Pretty. Delicate._ A slip of a figure that radiated, despite her size, great enthusiasm and energy.

Now though…

Now, she simply looked like a ghost.

_Lifeless._

The bed swallowed her. The white of the sheets, pulled up over her chest, seemed to blend in with her pale skin, causing her to appear washed out and sickly.

But of course. She _was._

And it hurt to have this truth stare Sachiko in the face.

For a long moment she could not enter the room. She stayed where she was, rooted by the doorway, practically shaking on her feet. Her mouth was dry, her knees weak, and the hands that griped the door frame were shaky, as though she hadn't had a decent meal in quite sometime.

She hadn't.

Her hair, dark and disheveled, clung to her face, nearly as white as Yumi's in her anxiety, like bone or milk. The blue eyes that stared at her petite souer were rimmed in red, the result of hours and hours of crying. Her throat hurt, the throbbing lump inside of it threatening to spill even more tears.

But there were none. She was all dried up.

And still, it hurt.

Her first step was tentative. She was afraid that her legs would not be able to hold her weight, despite the fact that she was lighter than she had ever been, having no appetite to speak of whatsoever. Afraid that her strength would fail her and she would collapse, unable to reach Yumi's side.

But she didn't.

Somehow, she didn't.

And so she took another step.

And another.

They weren't quite as small. Her knees were still stiff and her chest ached something fierce- raw, wounded, twisting and clenching sporadically in the throes of agony -but her gaze burned brightly, determination making her jaw clench. And so she was able to move a little further forward then last time. A little closer to her love's side.

Her dying love.

And she faltered. Her right leg, placed in front of her left, threatened to buckle. It was willpower alone that prevented it from doing so. Still, she froze. Took a moment to right herself. To allow the painful breath that had caught in her chest to escape her trembling lips. Allowed her eyes, again, to refocus on that girl, that figure, her love.

_Yumi._

And somehow, she made it to her side. Somehow, she pushed herself forward, stumbling and awkward like a newborn foal, as though she had never walked before. But she had, and she did, and so when she reached the end, her goal- _her Yumi_ -she collapsed into the chair at her petite souer's side, panting as though she had run a marathon and not bumbled all of four steps across a room that was too small and too white to be anything other than a hospital room.

But she had made it, and that was all that mattered.

The sheer emotional agony of knowing what was to happen, of being aware of the horrible knowledge that plagued her- _Yumi's dying _-did not matter in that moment. Not when the girl in question opened her brown eyes- _such beautiful eyes Yumi, like chocolate or coffee or the sweet dirt that nurtures flowers _-and smiled up at her. Not when those lips- bloodless and chapped -parted after a moment and said quietly, happily:

"Gokigenyou, onee sama," so sweet it should be a crime to sound like that.

_Like an angel._

No, it did not matter. Only Yumi mattered.

And so Sachiko was able to smile back at her. It was a soft smile, tender in its all encompassing love. A smile that said _you are my everything. I love you._ And it was in her soft voice when she replied, her tone gentle, infinitely gentle. There was no sadness in it, no anger at the injustice of the world, no last minute pleas.

There was only Yumi, her love for her, and the harmonious intertwining of the two.

"Gokigenyou, Yumi."

_Gokigenyou._

And then they were both smiling, mirror images of one another, the love reflected in their eyes, in their mingled breath. It was still there when those soft brown eyes closed, and her small fingers- intertwined with a longer, more slender set -fell limp, her quiet breathing deepening into the recognizable pattern of slumber.

It was still present in Sachiko's brilliant blue gaze, swimming with tears of contentment. It was present in the words she whispered into her sleeping petite souer's ear- _"I love you Yumi. I love you so much," -_as she hovered over her, her own hand, now steady, clasping tightly around Yumi's slack fingers.

And even though time passed, and people came and went, it remained. Even when Yumi's eyes, day after day, did not open again, even after others had come to shed tears and say their heart felt goodbyes, love lingered in the room. It was strong and soulful and there was no getting rid of it, even when harsh words were spoken by the Ogasawara's to their motionless daughter, who refused to leave the room except for the most basic of her needs. Her stubbornness they could not understand, nor her sudden announcement of _"I am not marrying Suguru. I love Yumi," _(which came out of left field and seemed preposterous to them, they who had not even known that she liked girls, for god's sake!) and even though they yelled at her for her foolishness, and threatened her with things like money and a lack of education, she would not be moved.

Her love- their love -remained.

And so they left. Bitterly, regret, however deeply buried, leaving a twinge at their insides as they glanced at back at their daughter, seated once more, sapphire gaze rooted unwaveringly on her bedridden love, but they left nonetheless.

And, quietly, the wedding was canceled.

Something, once so agonizing, was brought to an end, just like that.

It did not matter to Sachiko.

Again, only _she_ did.

Only Yumi.

Suguru recognized it. He was always good at recognizing the simple, unspoken things. He was not the devil people sometimes made him out to be, but more of an observer, who did and said things that were sometimes too spot on for others to be comftorable with him saying at all. Yet he did not have a bad heart- far from it. It was too big.

Too kind.

Complacently, he supported his cousin's decision.

_"Whatever you wish, Saa chan," he'd said quietly, looking the prone Yumi over with sorrowful eyes as he stood at the foot of her bed, feeling more weary than he ever had in his nineteen years of existence. "Your happiness is what matters, for even though I have never been in love with you, I've loved you nonetheless." _

_And then he said his own goodbye to Yumi, his gentle baritone voice cracking in the process as he bent down and planted a brotherly kiss on her forehead, a wry, broken smile gracing his handsome lips._ _"You're still quite cute aren't you, Yumi chan? Even now." He paused for a moment as he brushed a sweaty curl from her forehead, the gesture tentative. His expression grew more solemn as he continued. "We love you, Yumi chan. Saa chan loves you. We will miss you." _

_Saa chan most of all.__  
_

And then, with one last pained look in Sachiko's direction he was gone, and it was only them.

As it was meant to be.

As Yumi grew weaker, her skin paler and her body thinner, Sachiko remained steadfast in her love. It poured from her and was sometimes wrenched from her being in great gasps whenever Yumi faltered- whenever her breath hitched or a keening, pained moan managed to escape her small, dry mouth -but it was there nonetheless. It would never disappear, the love between them, never falter or leave.

Even when Yumi did.

Even when she died.


	25. Chapter 25

Here it is. Finally.

My heart broke a bit, writing this. Just a little warning.

Thank you all for reading, especially those who have stuck around since the beginning. It's been a long, tumultuous journey, and I'm glad for the support and encouragement to continue.

I hope it was worth your time.

Chapter 25: Gokigenyou

* * *

_"For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'it might have been.'"_

_-_John Greenleaf Whittier

* * *

There are some things that cannot be changed. Like the fact that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. That night follows day and trees need light to grow. These things are absolute, unchangeable: laws of the universe that are not meant to be broken- unable, really, to be broken.

In this same way death is unavoidable. It has no master of any kind and all are eventually welcomed into its dark embrace.

Fukuzawa Yumi was no exception.

She died in her hospital bed sometime that night, quietly slipping from this earthly realm with one last whisper of a breath, the tiniest of gasps. Her small chest, at the same time, ceased its weak rise and fell still, her closed eyelids relaxed, and the muscles of her face smoothed tranquilly as though in the midst of a deep, heavy sleep. Only this sleep was not temporary. It was not one Yumi would ever wake from. Her doe eyes had seen the last thing they were going to see the week before as she stared lovingly into her onee sama's sapphire gaze for that one, final time, uttering those simple, loving words:

"_Gokigenyou, onee sama." _

Sachiko, looking back on it months later- it took her that long to even begin to think sanely of the event –would only remark that it was a very Yumi-like thing to be said. Only an absent minded girl like her would think to say goodbye with a greeting.

Only her Yumi.

Though Yumi's friends and family had been given weeks to get used to the idea of Yumi's death, none of them were prepared when it finally came. How could they be? No one bore it well- no one was calm and dignified and as together as one would think, as girls of Lillian, they would be.

Yumi's demise, to put it simply, broke them.

Mercilessly.

Mere days after her onee sama had been buried, Touko quit acting. It was her passion, her life, the source of her energy, and she thrived on it. It served as the platform in which her stubbornness and occasional haughty manner could be taken, transformed into something beautiful- something others longed to touch and hold and claim as their own.

Or, it had been. Not anymore. Not without her onee sama.

Not without Yumi.

She could not bear to perform, could not stand being caught in the accusatory, blinding glare of spotlight, on a stage that had once acted as her haven, dressed in all of her finery, desperately searching the crowd for a girl she knew would not be there. The onee sama she no longer had.

It simply hurt too much.

No one blamed her for it. It would be hypocritical, when they had their own methods of escape as well.

Each, it seemed, equally futile.

Sei began to drink. She'd done so before, strictly for fun- alcohol being an excuse for her to become even more of a flirt –but after Yumi died she fell into the habit of drinking long and hard. She did so alone, stuck with her heavy thoughts in the dark solitude of her university room and could not, for the longest time, get out of the practice. She welcomed the haze that came with drinking cheap wine and drinking it by the bottle. She welcomed not having to think, the dullness that came with a tongue thick on poison. It prevented her from having to dwell on the pain that beat mercilessly at her heart, the pain of losing that girl- that sweet, innocent girl! –so senselessly, to the world of the dead. A realm none of them could see or touch.

Now, though, Sei would give anything to see her Yumi chan again; anything and everything. But what she had to give would not be taken. Yumi was dead and there was no bringing her back.

No amount of wine the former rosa gigantea consumed would change this horrible fact.

Yoshino turned to Rei as she had done countless times in the past, both by force of nature and habit. The older girl had always been her form of support and she clung to her now with desperation, her sorrow unintentionally dragging on the tall girl as well so that their grief was a mutual, shared thing; Yoshino hurting at the loss of Yumi and Rei, along with this pain, hurting for the loss Yumi's death had caused in Yoshino.

The younger, quite simply, lost the spunk that made her who she was; Yoshino, the girl with a dry wit and clever, amusing tongue, who always had a pithy reply for everything- a little joke to lighten the atmosphere and get people laughing.

But things just didn't seem funny anymore. Not in a world that had become so bleak.

A world now deprived of her best friend.

Rei, who was, and always had been, soft at heart (_too soft_, she woefully agonized in the face of this tragedy) did her best to become the strong one. It was hard, even downright impossible at times. Her gentle nature was not used to taking charge, to being firm and unyielding so that she could get Yoshino out of bed when the younger girl hardly had the will to open her red, tear marked eyes. She was not used to burying her emotions and simply gritting her teeth as she forcefully dragged her cousin from her room when the latter had spent a restless night sobbing and wailing her regrets, her heartfelt pleas- _"Why Rei, why?"_ -neither understanding and both equally helpless to come up with an answer. She was not used to shaking Yoshino from stupors and bringing the younger girl food after she had stared, hour upon hour, at pictures of a certain smiling pigtailed girl, the urge to eat forgotten and near nonexistent. Yet even though she was not used to these many agonizing tasks Rei did what she could. She knew that otherwise they would both become lost, and that was something she simply was not willing to let happen.

She would not lose Yoshino. Ever.

Not in the way Sachiko had lost Yumi.

Shimako too, at least, had her comfort- though in the beginning, it was hardly enough. Nonetheless she leaned on Noriko—and did so heavily --her love and one means of support. There was many a day when the graceful, dignified girl that was rosa gigantea- admired by the masses for her quiet beauty and charm -would simply break down in hysterics. Many a day where she would simply collapse against her petite souer, slender chest heaving with sobs she could not get a grip on nor stifle.

Not that she didn't try. God know how she tried! But in the end the sorrow was too much for her and she could not bear it.

No one could.

So it was her petite souer, heart heavy and world weary, who did her best to make everything better; kissing the beautiful tears from her onee sama's curved cheeks as they fell (her own mingling with them as she did) almost as though, in the process, she hoped to devour her love's despair.

It didn't cure the older girl of her grief, but it helped.

And then, finally, there was Sachiko.

Beautiful, lovely, broken Sachiko.

How the world wept for the poor former Rosa Chinensis, for she did graduate, even if it was in a daze; even if she only remembered bits and pieces of the ceremony. Even if her broken heart was occupied entirely with something else, someone else, so that she received her papers with lifeless hands and a blank stare and had to be helped back to her seat by a shaken Rei, stumbling forward as though blind without an iota of her former, prideful grace.

How far she had fallen, that stunning, fragment of a girl, with her raven hair and large, haunted sapphire eyes.

Impossibly far.

To the wretched, aching hearts of the yamayurikai, they feared it was a fall she would never recover from. She who had lost her other half- her better half, she had once joked to Youko. That person who made her whole.

Yumi.

There were no words to describe her sorrow. Words did not encompass the grief she felt, the one that chewed her up and spat her out to lie limp and uncaring on the floor of her bedroom, day after day, week after week, barely aware that she existed at all save for the constant ache of complete and utter _loss _that tore mercilessly at her chest and refused to leave, even in the darkest hours of the night and the brightest hours of the day.

_How wretched_ the others thought, not condescending but sympathetically, their own throats closing up at the mere thought of her.

_How sad_.

She ate very little and drank even less. She stared out at everyone and everything in the world as though seeing nothing with eyes as dead as the place where her soul had once resided. Now, it was bare, bare of the one person who had made her existence worth living:

_Yumi._

She saw her sometimes, when she was alone. Quick, fleeting sightings that made her head whirl and the blood pump in her veins so that she almost felt whole again.

Her Yumi.

She would enter unobtrusively, hovering in the dark, murky corners of her bedroom, when twilight fell and shadows graced their presence. Just a flash of her really, a sliver that disappeared if Sachiko turned to face her, gone before the former rosa chinesis could lift a hand out and touch her, as if to verify that she was, in fact, real. It was then that the young Ogasawara, in her bleary state, would imagine herself to catch other glimpses, flickers of nothingness that haunted her imagination relentlessly and stirred up recollections that were too painful to really be healthy. Sometimes, it made Sachiko's heart pound, these unearthly, nostalgic apparitions.

Other times, it seemed to throb and ache.

Yumi was everywhere. Sometimes, she appeared in shimmering mirages across the street, standing quietly in empty doorways and sitting unobtrusively in vacant seats on the bus, a ghostly specter of what she had once been. Sachiko, in these instances, would find herself almost calling out to her- hope rising in her chest before she could stop it -when suddenly the pigtailed visage would vanish again, as quickly as it had come.

But still, she saw her.

She was there, in the reflections of shop windows and pools of water on the street, gracing the surfaces of mirrors and reflective surfaces- _brown eyes, brown hair, twin colored ribbons, bashful grin -_there, so close, a mere flicker away!- but at the same time, untouchable. Sometimes, she was smiling that beautiful smile Sachiko remembered so well, kind and honest and enthusiastic.

Other times, it was her small, pale face that haunted her, frozen in the stillness of death.

The young Ogasawara could not get her out of her head, her heart. The image was stuck, mingling with the pain, flowing through her entire body and soul so completely she was drowning in the entirety of it: _Yumi._

She wanted to touch her and hold her and kiss her- she wanted to whisper sweet nothings into her ear and brush her hair with her fingertips, to recall the silky feeling of it against her skin. She wanted to simply walk down the street with her, side by side, happy and content as their hands intertwined and secretive, shared smiles danced across their lips. But she couldn't because she was gone- dead. She would never feel her skin again, she would never touch her lips again, she would never stare into those bigger than life eyes and hear that innocent laugh and oh god it hurt so much she wanted to die, again and again, to be dead, because then at least she would be with Yumi and she would not have to feel this terrible ache that was being alive and being alone!

It hurt more than she'd ever thought was humanly possible.

And she could not bare it.

It was Yumi she was thinking of when she slipped the pills into her palm and stared at them with more intensity than she had stared at anything in the few weeks beforehand. It was that phrase she imagined hearing in her ears- _"Gokigenyou, onee sama_" when she put them on her tongue, a ghost of a smile on her lips as she swallowed, thinking of those pigtails and the prospect of tugging gently on one of them, serenity filling her as she imagined Yumi's exclamation of "_onee sama!" _accompanied by her tell tale blush.

She imagined, then, that her hands were the ones shaking her-_ such small hands, Yumi, so delicate_ -as she slipped into the blissful darkness, _her_ warmth as she was curled against someone's heaving chest, shrill, distant cries spiraling through her ears and away, disappearing like stones cast into deep, endless waters.

And it was her name she whispered brokenly _"Yumi," _when she woke in the blinding white of the hospital room sometime afterward, a sob tearing its way from her chest at the realization that she had failed, that the distance between them- _such a great, lonely distance _-was still in place, her eyes closing against the sight of her disheveled, heart broken onee sama, because hers was not the face she wanted to see.

The pain washed over her and it was as if she had lost her all over again.

_Yumi._

Her name was the one she mumbled with weary lips as she drifted into exhausted slumber, uncaring of the gentle, trembling hand that stroked her hair, the soft, thick exclamation of _"Oh Sachiko_," so sad it would have been impossibly painful to the younger girl had she heard it. Yet her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of _her, _memories of _her_, love for _her__, _and so Youko's words were not the ones that she wrestled with in the throes of unconsciousness. There was Yumi, only Yumi._  
_

Now and always.

It remained that way for some time. Her thoughts dark, her disposition dark, her entire world dark as the light that had once guided her had been snuffed out, leaving her groping for something to show her the way as she stumbled blindly about, grief her only companion. She thought it would never get better, that things would never get easier, and more than once she found herself in her bathroom, several weeks after she had been released from the hospital, a razor pressed against her wrist.

It did not break her skin but she thought about letting it. She imagined, again, how much easier it would be to succumb to the darkness, to say a silent goodbye to the world as she slipped from it like she imagined the blood would slip from her veins, quietly and without fuss. The pain would be gone, the terrible ache, and her lips almost quirked into a smile at the idea of the relief it would provide. But it was Youko's words that came to her then, words that had been spoken in her hospital bed as the former rosa chinensis dully grieved the loss of her failed attempt.

_"We can't lose you Sachiko," the older girl sobbed, the sound harsh in the otherwise still room. A wailing that reached into the numbness surrounding Sachiko's heart. She looked up reluctantly and against her will felt her emotions stir at the sight of the blotchy face that greeted her, shocked despite herself at the disheveled appearance of her onee sama._

_She had never seen Youko so undone and it was honestly frightening.  
_

_The older girl attempted to swallow her cries but they escaped anyway as she bowed her head, her body shaking with emotion. "We can't lose you too," she whispered. "Not you."  
_

_The 'not like we lost Yumi' was not spoken, not out loud, but in the heavy air it was implied, sitting somewhere amidst Youko's tears._

_To say that Sachiko was shocked would be an understatement. Never could she recall having seen Youko cry before and certainly not in the way she was then, hunched morosely over the hospital bed as though she no longer had the strength to sit up straight, her pale fingers gripping Sachiko's painfully tight, as though afraid to let go, delicate shoulders heaving with the force of her sobs. It did something to Sachiko, cracked the uncaring exterior she had allowed herself to slip into, as one slender hand reached over to cup her stunned face, effectively getting her attention. Dark eyes had met her own in that moment, tears spilling from them and falling on to the younger girl's skin._

_"Yumi loved you Sachiko, loved you with everything she had." Her voice cracked as she said this and she had to pause for a moment, thoughts of the young girl flashing through her head so that she had to take a breath and steady herself before she could hope to continue.__ The bedridden girl beside her closed her eyes at the mention of that name- her name -unable to help the pain that stabbed through her heart at its utterance (so much pain!) but Youko forced herself to finish what she had begun, her voice shaky but determined in its desperation. "She loved you so much, with every ounce of that big heart inside her tiny body. She loved you in a way I can only dream of being loved by somebody, and you loved her too. That's why this is so hard."_

_Again Sachiko flinched, her hands gripping the sheets of her hospital bed as though in the hopes of tearing them. Why was she bringing this up? She knew this. She knew it in the very depths of her bones, in the core of her being. The love was there, the ache was there, and neither was ever going to disappear. Didn't Youko understand that? Didn't she realize that she just wanted the pain to go away? _

_It hurt so much._

_It must have been in her eyes, her desolation, because Youko's fingers were suddenly digging into her shoulder blades as her gaze bore into her, relentless in its command for attention. And though Sachiko wanted to look away, to fade away, to dissolve into the ground or air or just something, to not be here, she looked back at her and listened as the older girl continued._

_"I know it hurts. It hurts us too Sachiko, and we did not love her the way you loved her. We get it, we really do. It's cruel and its unfair and I can't stand what its doing to you, what its done to us!" _

_Again she stopped, her features tightening as sorrow rushed over her in a wave but again she found the strength to push forward, her eyes never leaving Sachiko's as she took another deep breath. _

_"She's gone Sachiko. We loved her, you loved her, and she died anyway." Another sob tore from her throat and Sachiko felt her insides burning, her gaze too as hot tears slipped down her cheeks, this time her own. Youko's words seemed to strike her very soul as she spoke them, ringing with such truthfulness that they could not be ignored. "She died before she should have with so many things she didn't get to do. It's horrible but it's true. She's gone."_

_Before Sachiko should shout at her to stop, to say that she couldn't take it anymore, she whispered something that made her freeze in her tracks. Something that shook her aching being._

_"But not completely. As completely asinine as it sounds-" a bark of laughter that sounded more like a sob escaped her then as she finished "-a part of her lives on in us. In you." _

_Angrily she wiped at her tears, the look she sent Sachiko almost challenging, as though daring the younger girl to protest. When she didn't, more words spilled forth. "She's in your memories. Nothing could make you forget her. And she can be in your future too." _

_At Sachiko's broken look she smiled sadly, her hand drifting back to her petite souer's to grip it with all of the comfort she could offer. "Maybe not in the way you want, maybe not physically, but she lives on here." She pressed her hand softly against Sachiko's now heaving chest, her expression remaining fierce. "If you can't live for us, live for her. If your family and your friends aren't enough for you, let her be. Let everything you do be for her. When you open your eyes, let her see the world from them. Do the things she will never get to do, live in her memory. Just... live. It's what she would have wanted."_

_"It's all any of us want."_

_She succumbed to her despair then, sobs over taking her once more as she fell upon her petite souer and Sachiko, effectively stunned and emotionally drained, clung to her as she sobbed, revealing for the first time the entirety of her emotions. They were dark and heavy and begging for help and though it pained Youko to listen to her she was glad to hear it, to know that maybe, just maybe, they stood a chance after all. _

Youko's words stuck with Sachiko, even as her depression remained. They were not enough for her to revert back to the girl she had once been. Her eyes were still missing that spark and often her moods remained bleak, shrouded in the sorrow of what she had lost and what seemed to be a permanent anguish for it. But even when it was bad enough for her to stand in front of the mirror in her dimly lit bathroom, gaze blank and her razor blade pressed ominously against her flesh, she never made the cut. And as time passed, days turning into weeks and weeks into months, she began to smile slightly at jokes people made. Occasionally she would even laugh, the sound genuine, and appreciate a good thing when it came to pass. One day she even woke up and her first thought was not of Yumi, a minor accomplishment even if the day following it and the one after it were.

She still had her bad days where everything seemed to go wrong. Like the morning she had gotten ready to head to her English seminar at the university only to break down at the sight of a girl with green ribbons holding back a pair of soft pigtails.

She had spent the whole night crying, her nightmares laced with images of blood stained fingers and lips, the words _"I love you onee sama"_ haunting her sleep. Her heart would still stop in her chest whenever she happened to pass the statue of Maria sama, recollections of crooked ties and smiles overwhelming her weary mind.

Still, she lived.

She got up in the morning and went to class. She made new friends even if she remained closed off and somewhat mysterious to them and she managed to keep in touch with most of the yamayurikai, those she was closest too, and went on outings with them. She tried new restaurants, went out to the movies, even took a road trip with Sei and Youko to kyoto, hoping to see all that she could see because she knew her onee sama was right.

She had to live, not only for herself but for Yumi too.

She could feel her love in her chest even now, and the pain, though still present, had managed to die down so that it wasn't foremost on her mind. Gradually, infinitesimally, she healed. She did not try to forget her love but immersed herself in it so that she could, in turn, love more fully.

So when she greeted new people she did it with a polite "gokigenyou," hoping that wherever Yumi was she knew that she was missed and loved and remembered.

What more can any of us ask for in life?


End file.
